Garage Talk

Uhh

Hehehe

I just got the **** off a plane

6 car garage

I got more than 1 job

Be a boss, go hard

Wake up smelling kush when I yawn

Shorty wanna **** with the king, tired of them pawns

Ain't on the top? Well thats nonsense

Bank account full of G's so that's all you gon get

TSA on my face so they don't trip

Chain frost, big dicks that I'm with give me no lip

We'd done touch M's now we on to billions

Hard to explain how these new rugs feeling

Blowing kush up in high ceiling's

Having meetings at the crib, confidential dealings

And I ain't gotta tell you who the realest is

Thats my bitch spitta, foreign cooked chef

And where the kitchen is

Money straight where my business is

And the girls **** with me

So I'm always where the bitches is

Kid

Ye Ye Ye Ye

I see all the sexy mami's in here

Hey, Ay wiz I smell you up here too

Make sure you pass that kk to the DJ booth

Aww shit

Here comes spitta on them gold BBS

Yeah

Yuh, Swung through gold BBS and the spoiler kit

1986 slinging that shit

They want the family price on them bricks

But I just had a son and I only love him

So I ain't coming down on the price

Ain't no where else you gon get shit this nice

Got cocaine white, airforce nikes

Barclay swishes for all my bitches

Put hightop troops on all my shooters

For the goose down jacket from the booster

Shootouts on the roof, racing in them coupes

She wore the Gucci frames with the door knocker hoops

And the lying mother****ers tell you I ain't the truth

Rich uncle come through

Pop the truck, pull the duffel

Lay the merchandise out, get the loot mother****er

East side real nigga, show ya how to hustle

Outside put the ****ing Chevrolet's on the bumper

If it don't hop, nigga park that shit

That ain't no low rider, thats a rollin' imposter

Put the stocks on fool, quit playing like you out here

2009, all kind of high

High fly handfuls on the moon trying to drive

Its a stoned duo, solid gold jewel tho

Kicked the shit out that game and now she won't go

Ladies if you ain't go your own drinks

You gotta get out the section

You heard my man spitta

Fellas, raise your glasses

Tip your bartenders

And make sure you take that shit bitch

We bout to ride out

Jet life, taylor gang

Oh

母带工程师 : Eric Dan