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Written by b. setzer Hey, louis prima We gotta get the hell outta town 'cause I've been datin' a chick with some swively hips And her boyfriend
ain't thinking, I'm just doin, my thing Alright, okay, I don't dance, no way I just take my Louis rag out and wave it 'round in the air Take my Gucci rag
jeans Nah homie I ain't thinkin' I'm just doin' my thing Alright (alright) okay (okay) I don't dance (I don't dance) no way (no way) I just take my Louis
jeans Nah homie I ain't thinkin' I'm just doin' my thing Alright (alright) okay (okay) I don't dance (I don't dance) no way (no way) I just take my Louis
me, "Youngin', you the one" Givenchy, Louis, BAPE, the only thing, I'm from the slums White gold, Presidential, maybe I should run Still get 'em by
to rot in the morgue Cocaine first thing in the morn If she want put her name on the song You know I got cheese parmesan We flip by the letter, we flexin
(Ay-ay-ay-ay) Philipp Plein with the glitter skull Louis scarf wrapped around my face when I'm doin' road Finger flick 'til the oils drop It could do with a bit
All got habits, marijuana to static By two cats and coats with automatics (rrrah) St. Louis is the Truth like Sojourner (what) Don't need a burner,
on each other, and sip on some Hen One thing leading to another; let the party begin (What you doin'?) Nothing, chillin' at the Holiday Inn (Who you
and sip on some Hen One thing leading to another let the party begin (Whachu doin?) Nothing chillin at the Holidae In (Who you wit?) Me and my peeps
and sip on some Hen One thing leading to another let the party begin (Whachu doin?) Nothing chillin at the Holidae In (Who you wit?) Me and my peeps
was just on tour, nigga I'm Kan, the Louis Vuitton Don Bought my mom a purse, now she Louis Vuitton Mom I ain't play the hand I was dealt, I changed
mind around things You in trouble when I get up in the limelight Everybody runnin, I just wanna ride by They was talking shit and now they want a high
I dig Modigliani (1) Jolson doin' "Swanee (2) " Several maharanee (3) are my intimates, too I played with Montovani (4) That's a lot of string to get
to kill every nigga That stand by him or speak for him Can you stop actin' like you Doin' me a favor? Do I seem rattled? This idiot don't even know he tell
Friday nights, highway drives Street lights, and those butterflies The simple times when things were great We learned to fly now we're anchored by
short temper to cool out Yeah sometimes I need woosah, time to get paid by the goo-ghaas My office on top of that rooftop, for my mama Myra Anderson Tell
You know what west coasts niggas is gon' tell me? This is too west coast. Doing my own thing And if you got a problem with that Then the Nina go
from nothing I made it out, niggas say I got lucky, I'm doin' my thing, only God can judge me My teachers done flunked me, but now they wanna fuck me
rather be stung by bees than be fuckin' with birds I say this shit all the time until I'm touchin' her curves Or 'til it's time to pet the pussy like
a lotta beats They cost a lot like Louis V If we ain't close it ain't gonna be cheap I don't care what they do to me Ima stick with this music thing Ain't
and Louis Moved out the hood to a safe house Started doin' things that we dreamed When we laid down Now everybody's sayin' that I changed And they hate loud I
Four fifty-five, I drive by doin' a hundred And I stay blunted 'Cause I do what I need And that's the reason that they love me 'Cause I've been
Hen One thing leading to another let the party begin (Whachu doin?) Nothing chillin at the Holidae In (Who you wit?) Me and my peeps won't you bring
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