Ces Cru - Whips lyrics
[Ces Cru - Whips lyrics]
I'm footloose, y'all be like "Damn
" maintain with the right brain
Y'all ain't do it like Strange
Finna burn y'all when the light change
I'm ski skirting, getting small and I'm in a
Straight line on my jackshift
Trying to shake haters I'm a playmaker
Blacking out in oncoming traffic
Just imagine if, the frame was a little bit
Lighter considering drag lift
I could probably clear a row of buses on
You motherfuckers for trying to nab with
Don't get mad bitch, better jet son
Want a bad bitch? Go and get one
I'm that quick, suck a fat
Dick, wanna rap up, need to get done
Any circuit I enter I might rip
Burning this rubber I might slip
Struggling tryna get my grip
Doing 80 right over the spike strips
With the pedalin motoring, going and
So when I run it
Then I'ma just fly through it
If you ain't numero uno you ass and
Probably don't do it like I do it go
Yo, if you can't hang y'all that's peace
See I BYOB i bang y'all on beats, and
I bet your backyard obese, bitch
Better believe I'm bombastic
Bro know that my ball that big y'all fabric
Fabricated in a fabergé egg sack shit
In a nutshell y'all cornballs
That's corn nuts y'all done warmed up
Snatching out on this bad traffic
I'm an asshole and my horn's stuck
I switched lanes
Like Rittz came in the backseat
With this thick mane i'm an athlete
Y'all are Mitch Bade and yo
Bitch came with a Ixnay
Uh, let me explain, got a sick brain
I was born nuts
Now, who's the master? Sho Nuff, ask J
Yo you know it ain't no hold up (Ay)
You don't have to answer
The fact is you can't survive the standard
Don't act as if
I ain't had your bitch holding me
Close like I'm a tiny dancer (Ah)
Now back on the highway
Counting these headlights, get ya head right
I stand by, y'all out the car on the side
Of the street getting red lights
I see y'all stuck going round and
Around and around a bout
I secure the trophy, count 'em out
Beverly Hills down and out
" maintain with the right brain
Y'all ain't do it like Strange
Finna burn y'all when the light change
I'm ski skirting, getting small and I'm in a
Straight line on my jackshift
Trying to shake haters I'm a playmaker
Blacking out in oncoming traffic
Just imagine if, the frame was a little bit
Lighter considering drag lift
I could probably clear a row of buses on
You motherfuckers for trying to nab with
Don't get mad bitch, better jet son
Want a bad bitch? Go and get one
I'm that quick, suck a fat
Dick, wanna rap up, need to get done
Any circuit I enter I might rip
Burning this rubber I might slip
Struggling tryna get my grip
Doing 80 right over the spike strips
With the pedalin motoring, going and
So when I run it
Then I'ma just fly through it
If you ain't numero uno you ass and
Probably don't do it like I do it go
Yo, if you can't hang y'all that's peace
See I BYOB i bang y'all on beats, and
I bet your backyard obese, bitch
Better believe I'm bombastic
Bro know that my ball that big y'all fabric
Fabricated in a fabergé egg sack shit
In a nutshell y'all cornballs
That's corn nuts y'all done warmed up
Snatching out on this bad traffic
I'm an asshole and my horn's stuck
I switched lanes
Like Rittz came in the backseat
With this thick mane i'm an athlete
Y'all are Mitch Bade and yo
Bitch came with a Ixnay
Uh, let me explain, got a sick brain
I was born nuts
Now, who's the master? Sho Nuff, ask J
Yo you know it ain't no hold up (Ay)
You don't have to answer
The fact is you can't survive the standard
Don't act as if
I ain't had your bitch holding me
Close like I'm a tiny dancer (Ah)
Now back on the highway
Counting these headlights, get ya head right
I stand by, y'all out the car on the side
Of the street getting red lights
I see y'all stuck going round and
Around and around a bout
I secure the trophy, count 'em out
Beverly Hills down and out