Lyrics: Willie Wilson
Music: Willie Wilson
(Yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
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Gotta spring for this mission I'm on
'Fore I slide, hit a spritz of cologne
Scammer calls and they won't leave me 'lone
Put the engine [?]
In Atlanta, I'm passing through zones
In McLaren, I know what I want
Gotta amp up the bass [?]
Gotta beat up the beat with the trunk
I be sipping whiskey, not Patron
I be rolling up weed, am I wrong?
[?]
But I really won't be around 'til the weekend
I do not [?] I get to the chicken
You know that the first 'round the corner, no sleep in
I was at Vans at a young nigga [?]
Already posted in the mu****ing deep end
I was riding 'round skating in Stan Smith
No [?] 'cause I really would land it
Palm Springs to the 436, my side of town
Long way posted on Stanley
Everyday with the clique, niggas already know who that is
This is like a family
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)