Warhol.SS, Randy Provolone - Juelz Santana lyrics

[Warhol.SS, Randy Provolone - Juelz Santana lyrics]

Six in the morning stain hit my line
Crack of dawn and I'm yawning
Line steady chirpin' where's the move?
Go and get me some hit her with the wrist
I bet I whip in your millennia
Saucin' with the pot

Like Alfredo Fettuccine with the
Sauce and better side
Shawty Fetty Wap-d the Lincoln and
Started tweaking 'cause I'm hot
Say she wifey but she not
Told shawty call the Uber
I ain't whipping to your spot
That bitch tweaking, yeah she tweaking
And I'm thinking I can sauce, hit her heart
Panoramic missing roof, I think that's a loss
Play your card
Been a spade I'm black as ace up in this draw
Parking lot, pimping limping
Way I'm moving been the same, since the park
Then they see me
I've been laying low, trapping out the uber
I don't talk to no computer
Hit my pager for this super sauce
I'm sippin' in this purple
Know I'm doublecuppin' Act'
Leaning hard that's a fact
Bring it back, feel like Keem Hoodrich
Couple karats in my slugs, playboy
Whip a foreign pizzeria with her wrist
Chef boy
What she cooking, I got sauce for that eight
Come in shop, good gas for that low
You should let that shit go
Hit her with the kriss skull
Screaming where my wrist go?
Purple in my cup but she think it's nuvo
Ayy, she just want to kick it
Let her tour my new boat, ayy
Now she want to fuck
Call that bitch a free show ay
Fresh white tee from the corner store
Japanese denim ceremony feel like Kikyo
Back up on finessin
Hope he know he on the meter though
Serve him at the spot then like dub
See you never ho
Early in my schedule but it's

Six in the morning stain hit my line
Crack of dawn and I'm yawning
Line steady chirpin' where's the move?
Go and get me some hit her with the wrist
I bet I whip in your millennia
Saucin' with the pot

Ayy, Randy Lee, hey Darren, I got hit's
I don't trust no mouses
I just get it then we bouncin'
Money stackin', Randy countin'
Randy dirty water fountain
Randy Rodgers Quartback
Ain't no one can handle that
MVP, your bitch wearing my tee
You a C-O-P, she gave me brain like MIT
Ayy, check your wrist, ain't no cheese
She finna dip
Uh, we finna lay, potato louder than a chip
(Grrah)

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