[Big K.R.I.T.]
|
Is it me or is it something bout a car
|
that makes a bad bitch get freaky and fuck like porno stars?
|
Or maybe it was that chrome that keep a bopper in the zone
|
But either way, she hit my phone like she can't leave me 'lone
|
and then that just keep happening, blame it on all this rapping shit
|
Ten out of ten, she down to fuck, that's just what my average is
|
Slab and chassis lavishly, with cabin digi-dash in it, I'm an advocate
|
Chromed-out wheels, if you hop in here you might jet lag a bit
|
I'm passionate bout everything that I want, I do what it do and y'all don't
|
I put the whole world in my trunk, let it bump
|
Check the stars out when I ride, dodging potholes with these tires
|
Hopping lanes, swang and bang in a 'Stang, so let me by
|
cause I got
|
|
[Chorus 2X: screwed vocals]
|
Money-money on the floor, lighters-lighters on the dresser
|
Drop-drop my top, no one can do it better
|
Diamonds-diamonds in the leather, wood-wood in the chrome
|
Bopping-bopping ass hoes just won't leave me alone
|
|
[8Ball]
|
Look, she call me Big Baby, I got my Guccis on
|
Black on black, head to toe, smelling like Prada cologne
|
Feeling like big pimping, inhale, exhale
|
Good green, thick lean, give them bitches X pills
|
Cocaine make 'em get so loose on them tequila shots
|
Every time I do it I regret it, the bitch just can't stop
|
Now she's dancing on the table, skirt done went up to her navel
|
Niggas throwing money at her, shit, I can't be mad at her
|
|
[MJG]
|
Bring the girl to me then I'ma bless her, yessir
|
Twenty-five lighters on my dresser, yessir
|
My bitch on the block with some money on her mind
|
A pistol in her purse and a heart full of grind
|
I'm Pimp Tight MJ'! Drop my top, light that 'dro
|
Hand on the wood with the pedal on the flo'
|
Forever getting dough and I'm clever on a hoe
|
I'm still getting Feddi mayne, never be a scary mayne
|
My DNA is all Ike Turner, Eddie King
|
|
[Chorus 2X]
|
|
[2 Chainz]
|
2 Chainz! Twenty-five lighters (lighters), twenty-five ciphers
|
Went to jail and shared a cell with a twenty-five to lifer (damn)
|
Stayed at my grandma house with twenty-five Bibles (true)
|
Stayed in the trap house with like twenty-five rifles (blahh!)
|
Drop my top and I dip, dip, dip
|
But if I pop my trunk you better duck, don't slip
|
Chrome lips on the vehicle look like they blowing kisses
|
Re-reel them hoes in, it look like I'm going fishing
|
Okay this how I ride, two bad hoes inside
|
One hoe say she ready, the other hoe say she tired
|
I'ma drop this other hoe off, me and the other hoe, we gon' ride
|
All jokes aside, I'm the get money poster child
|
|
[Chorus 2X]
|
|
-----------------
|
Money On The Floor
|
Big KRIT |