442, 442
|
I'm burning gas like a 442
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I'm rolling past that BMW
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That new shit pretty, these old schools move
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I ride city to city, my motor fine-tuned
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I've got your girl with me, she so unfollowed you
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I'm on a paper mission, caper to count the loot
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We super fly fishing, we've got some Gucci shoes
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Started with no pot to piss in, now I smoke pot and kick it
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Beautiful stranger tryna get more familiar
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New Orleans know I feel 'em, wherever I go, I bring 'em
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Real niggas in the building, smoked out any whip I've driven
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Only focus is getting in the door
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So we ripped it up off the fucking hinges like
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Where the dope? We know it's in here
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They already told us get it here
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Can we ball? So high on this motherfucking jet
|
Check my rhymes, I ain't told it, not yet
|
|
442, 442
|
I'm burning gas like a 442
|
We coming through, convertibles and coupes
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My OG told me 'smash anything in front you'
|
442, 442
|
I'm burning gas like a 442
|
Convertibles and coupes
|
If it's 'bout that cash, no telling what we'll do
|
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Money to the ceiling
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Pimpin' is a gift I opened way too early
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Like my hair curly, redbone curvy
|
Make 'em run from this'
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Alright, lipstick on my boxers, these bitches love my posture
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Quite frankly I'm Sinatra, I'm shark and you tilapia
|
I've got on payroll, but I grab my binoculars
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I'm looking for a reason to tell my niggas I don't need 'em
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Alright, revenge taste better than pussy
|
Man, ain't got no purple, gotta get it from Whoopi
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I'mma put it in your mouth, I don't know how else to put it
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I bet they ain't fucking with me, where's the bucket
|
Alright, I'm a motherfucker, quote-on-quote
|
She ride this dick like it came off the showroom floor
|
Lil' Tunechi aka No Baking Soda, I'm high, Lamar Odom
|
I'm smoking like a motor
|
|
442, 442
|
I'm burning gas like a 442
|
We coming through, convertibles and coupes
|
My OG told me 'smash anything in front you'
|
442, 442
|
I'm burning gas like a 442
|
Convertibles and coupes
|
If it's 'bout that cash, no telling what we'll do
|
|
We popping off
|
We get to stunting, you know it's bang or ball
|
Rolling off, sliding free, we clear them streets
|
Third wall, we bend them niggas
|
Reppin' mines to the end, my nigga
|
High life, we can't fake, so we'll show them niggas
|
Take they bitches, bring 'em home
|
Stunna holla, bang and ball
|
Laying low in my old school
|
Top back for my old cool
|
Stay fly in that Bentley Coupe
|
Told my bitch how to get this money
|
Showed a bitch how to get this money
|
Pimping hoes, we pimp this game
|
Got the money, we kept on running
|
Hard top and that new school
|
Drop top and that new school
|
Roof wide open, out the pound with them big tools
|
What up? We in this jungle
|
What up? We keep it bumping
|
What up? We shine and hustle
|
What up?
|
|
442, 442
|
I'm burning gas like a 442
|
We coming through, convertibles and coupes
|
My OG told me 'smash anything in front you'
|
442, 442
|
I'm burning gas like a 442
|
We coming through, convertibles and coupes
|
If it's 'bout that cash, no telling what we'll do
|
|
-----------------
|
442
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Curren$y |