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Pullin' up at tha club in a 67 'lac |
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Wit tha champagne color, drop top, blowin on a sack |
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We were rollin like some macs, peepin all foes |
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I got to valet, my baby, cause she sittin on some all golds |
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Now lucci call those, ladies wit fitness |
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So we can handle our business, and let em know, jus how we kick it |
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It's time to let em know tha real crooks are on tha scene |
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Unkindly to these hoes unless tha finally got some cheese |
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Now bring on tha weed, let's float on cloud 30-30 |
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I said a few lines, she grab my hand, i knew she heard me |
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I sat at tha bar afta rollin' up tha cake |
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Then they mixed that grand moyea wit that damn kovasea |
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French connection and some hay, we were blowin fool |
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I cant keep drinkin like this, i gotta hop up in tha old school |
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Playin it so cool, and still smokin |
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Locin up wit this tight, bright stallion, i had spoken |
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Chorus [x2] |
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Baby, come and get some |
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Mr. pookie, mr. lucci wit tha big guns |
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Playaz havin bug fun, now tell me do you want some |
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I'm at tha bar laced out on french connection |
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Bout it, bout it, baby!!!!! |
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[mr. lucci] |
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Now once again, this playa stepped in, wit tha first class dressin |
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Teachin lessons on impression, toward tha vip section |
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Me and pookie steady wreckin, headshots of french connections |
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Green depressions, got me in a zone of balla flexin |
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Crooked down dallas, texas, stackin g's while i'm plexin |
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Stoneycrook niggaz, runnin everythang, dont even test them |
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Hopped up and i'm chopped up on tha dance floor, showin mo luv |
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Yella bone eyes locked up, when i'm propped up wit my soljaz |
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It's so much, green cover for tha primeco phone holder |
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See tha don man's and tha golds, bruh |
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Crooked pest games wit her shoulda |
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And i told her, meet me at tha bar bout 3 |
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Go gather up some of yo freaks, while i find pookie |
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Jacuzzi's and dubbie's, wit new ki's, wha it's gon be |
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Green trees and don p, droppin tops through dallas deep |
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Coolin out wit my g's, niggaz that you can't tame |
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Hoes strikin down crooked p's, hurricane wit a kango |
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Chorus [x2] |
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[mr. pookie] |
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Chillin at tha bar, gettin tipsy off tha drank |
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French connection got me feelin like a nigga wanna faint |
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Now i'm rollin up tha cake wit my eyes on tha crowd |
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Pookie and lucci, blowin like we floatin on a cloud |
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Feelin' me now? see, i'm tha chiffer of all chiffers |
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Figure it out, now take it slow and catch a breather |
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Ya trippin' me out, now throw that booty like its lethal |
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Show tha butt, hold it up, bounce it for tha people |
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Yes, i see you in tha back of tha club, takin photos |
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I'm finna blow hoe, look round, wassup wit tha dodo |
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I want some mo 'fo, i cant get wrapped up in my own world |
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Stallion wit long pearls, sexy now its on gurl |
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You wit yo friends and i'm wit a couple 2 |
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Jus hold onto tha number, we'll see you in a day or 2 |
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Pissy, tipsy wit my crew steady jiggin for fun |
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Now tell tha people to come and get some |
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Chorus [x2] |
