AZ, Ma$e - We Gon Make It Right lyrics

Who got all that old money
Plus that new cheddar six coupes and better
With Snoopy on his sweater
That ice on his sleeve makes it hard to speak
? cars and chiefs, show me a car receipt
I don't believe it
You know I'm an unbeliever joint so hot
Had to leave the join in the freezer
Cruise in the two-seater, one of my divas
If you didn't see my chick
You didn't see her that long
If it wasn't top bank, then it was Nia Long
I just blaze along, bump the same old song
The same OG, know I'm the same old me
Every chick I the club put a claim on me
You know I got money, look at the chain on me
My wrist and my neck
Everybody give me respect my life is ruined
Got players white pursuin'
If I paid for the telly
All night we screwin'

We gon' make it right you know what I mean
Cause every girl that chased the
Night be running after me
We gon' make it right
And you know what I mean
Cause everything that shines bright ain't
Even what it seems oh we gon' make it right

This an extravaganza, snap ya cameras
Relax, I'm blue, black
From that sun of Savannah
That blue, black with some fun in Atlanta
Loop's having a party
Told her come in pajamas
Cheuffer driven, let's toast for living
No one going to heaven
This is as close as I'm getting
Rap life, I'm like the Pope in prison
And we barely ever spoke religion, suited up
In all concert jewels and such
It's years later
And my nigga ain't lose his touch
It's still in me
Started with the Baileys and Henny
Now it's barely Grey Goose
With Grenadine and Fendy, clothes trendy
Wardrobe Louis and Fendi, if niggas knew me
I know most would truly commend me
Then they envy
So, one by one, girls, come caress me
Undress, molest me, but you can't possess me

From the streets that niggas don't know
Like Grand Rapids down to?
Where girls faint for a photo
While you still promo
Oh no, you got to get your shit straight
Half these niggas only hot on the mixtape
Only loved in six states, I'm loved in 46
Probably can hit
Any fucking shorty they with
Be they man, when I leave
Then they call me a bitch
Make your block go hot, they can't pump?

Yo this is glamorous, Spanish chicks
South Beach bikinis, sun tans and sip
A hundred and sixty thou on
My hands and wrist
Get me how I was raised on some family shit
Streets is in me, go where the reefer send me
Sick thoughts was taught not
To be so friendly
People stress, fanatic, got the ease on sess
Understand after me, there will be no left