| D-D-Don't even gotta shoot, give that bitch to Bell |
| Walk in YSL, they say, «What's the smell?» |
| I’ve been kickin' shit, know that you can tell |
| Summrs 007, ring a bell |
| High up off this gas, babygirl, I’m shell |
| Sippin' on this lean, bae I need some help |
| I don’t even skate, but I’m on the rail |
| That mean I’m on my grind, know that you can tell |
| My bitch down to earth like a spider |
| And I’m in that Spider |
| Shit can get lit, just like a lighter |
| He say he get high, babygirl, I get higher |
| He think he get fly, babygirl, I get flier |
| Off of this lean, got me movin' slow |
| Sippin' DJ Phat when I’m in the mode |
| My pockets they stay fat, fat than a hoe |
| Walk right up in Neiman like, «Give me those» |
| Tatted on my neck, it attract the hoes |
| She just want the sex, yeah, I’m hip, I know |
| And her pussy pink, Pepto Bismol |
| Get shit poppin' on the scene, like some Crisco |
| Smokin' on this gas like the Citgo |
| In this coupe, it’s fast, man, that bitch go |
| Fuckin' on her sister, man, that kinfolk |
| Light up the gas with the zippo |
| Hit it from the back, like them dimples |
| Fuck in the pool, make some ripples |
| Now she stuck on me like she stapled |
| Suck me with no hands, I know you able |