It's H-B Weezy Wee off the streets Stay deep 'Cedes Jeep big feet Gazer seats hold the bare floors I faithfully hold to pimp whores You ate with me and you gon get yours This eight with me that's bullets through doors Got haze in me now I'm so tall Come blaze with me 'cause Beaky got more And now or later I'm major player I ball right I need an agent player Hey ma you tight you need to page a player That's so tonight you can taste a player I got the burner on the waist if you flinching My shit turning on 28-inches My shit burning like 500 plus And this album's a three permer and a clutch [Chorus] 24/7 (Yes, sir) I go hard (Go hard, go hard, go hard) Not here I claim squad game till no more Wayne remain Bang my thing till no more lane remain Use the left lane man cook up the cocaine Dudes a lil game and get her to do brain That boy Weezy is a bad mother-feezy Me and Young Jazze at the back of one tweezy I'm so breezy off the Velvie and the perk Now I'm getting head on the balcony on Bourbon Apple and Eagle is the street that I shop The Birdman my daddy and we fly south And we don't go to work man we get work out And the bricks may go as low as ten up in the drought Niggas is selling and you should be buying Niggas is telling and you should be dying Niggas is yelling Cash Money till they kill me C-M-B, I know you gotta feel me [Chorus] You know if I'm doing it I'm probably doing it for the block I'm out here bitch I got this here on lock Come out here bitch I bet this here gon pop I got ya slick this my year don't knock Speakers from the front to the rear gon rock Wood-grain handles to steer it's all hot I never drove factory and I don't own stock I drop that bitch on chrome chops, yeah [Chorus]
Written by: B. Thomas, D.P. Carter
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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