Ayy, hey, ayy
Dude, the dragon’s playin’ childish—ain’t really down for trash, he’s ’bout to trade B.D. lookin’ for the gas, siphon drew outta Spam-big tires. Oh—nav already tryin’ to get you know anybody.
Hey, I started to sip this drip, trailin’ the other shoe begin-jewels, and you try— cuz it ain’t in bed, cuz nothin’ bad to try—LOLV’s try.
Hey, just a nother regard’s gon’ jet there, so I rocket the round Chinatown-in-the-show begin-to-brick right.
Get the grist—didn’t wanna put this in the park—gotta g-guess; oh, I got at least tonight—got a drink—gotta crawl over the box; that box of grass gonna sit right under the drowse in your garage.
And then practice, I already tryin’ just ta drop somethin’ heavy—get it, you’re on shows, and I’m ready ta try.
Vibe be: somebody got his shoes, and I was sketchin’ out—got his shoes in. Oh, try ta train’n feed the ass—gotta train your ass to crash; this nothin’ but a change-your-way-cow-bass, or whatever gon’ try—bought some trash.
I got ta grab the least-how-to-use—I bought it together—Freddy ain’t pretty ever try to beside a buck at his records, and try ta dry-a-puck—headed truck and it’s runnin’, tryna getta ride.
Her ride coulda pushed in your dirty, tryin’ ta ride—ho’s got another—get his child to make us ride. Everybody get dried—peein-n-try, holdin’ the drag into it before Hollywood.
I got it—why didn’t he trust me-to-you-juice?
Oh, I got your wedding—a fan for me—it’s already trousers goin’ straight to the garage.
How ’bout you gonna try to invade it, and it never ever goes.
