Red Cafe - Cuffin Season (Interlude) lyrics

Let's keep that music rolling
Start the shakedown dj Sour Milk, huuuuuu
LA leakers, who kid, yeah?

These hoes keep calling, I ain't picking up
I'm getting chicken in Vegas
I ain't pimping up
All gold, check the barcode
My niggas doin' numbers, 4 millions
Throwing hundreds, whasup?
It's so cold in the fucking winter
These bitches can't lose when
They fucking winnin'
I tell a bitch anything to
Get her spleen popped that's my disclaimer
In case you see a screenshot
Right, I know these chicks iPhone right
If you knock out
She record it with her iPhone mic
Chicks wanna be famous
Ain't nothin' worse than being
Broke and being famous
In the club, grab em bottles that ain't yours
Then you IG phose, you hot? That's menopause
Shallow chick, closet full of LV
Kanye got gas, and bank account, everything
The club dream on Saturday
Ex had his new chick, he told you go that way
How you gonna fuck his man on spite?
And do them freak shows on Skype
New album, but my car don't even got keys
Don't ever tell that to a
Rat that don't got G's
Niggas hate and bitches throw cheap shots
I'm in the CL, smooth like Pete Rock
I ain't got worries, I got get money honeys
And straight stunting girls, playboy bunnies
Pretty mixed chickas that go both ways
That one on your buns is mayonnaise