and big mud tires. Bus kits and wine Oh baby, you can find me. In the back of a jacked up tailgate. Sittin' 'round watchin' all these pretty things. Get down in that Georgia clay And I'll find peace
not over you yet. It's love on the line, can you handle it So how do I do normal. A smile I fake. A permanent wave of. Cue-cards and fix-it kits. Can't you tell, I'm not myself I'm a slow-motion
accent. Well imma get in the doors on impalas with the phantom kits. Pull up at the party hop out and get it started. Plus im full of bicardi I think im getting nauseous. Now im feelin retarded
accent. Well imma get in the doors on impalas with the phantom kits. Pull up at the party hop out and get it started. Plus im full of bicardi I think im getting nauseous. Now im feelin retarded
accent. Well imma get in the doors on impalas with the phantom kits. Pull up at the party hop out and get it started. Plus im full of bicardi I think im getting nauseous. Now im feelin retarded
back with kits, spittin' * to your bitch. She'll do anything for me 'cause I'm filthy rich Hoe open your eyes, I'll feed you Popeyes. Then take you to the crib, then I open ya thighs. Bitch, say
. Young Ike Turners, disco inferners. Concentration camp, nobody turn up I roll up a X that came with kits. Leave you with nightmares, Dana Dane was with. I can train yo' bitch, with a chain an' whip
. And put some blue to it. Thats some gangsta *. These hoes love. This gangsta dick. Khakis. And some gangsta kits. Yeah, bitch. That my gangsta fit. I'm ballin boy. And u aint got to ask
accent. Well imma get in the doors on impalas with the phantom kits. Pull up at the party hop out and get it started. Plus im full of bicardi I think im getting nauseous. Now im feelin retarded