* you and your most high, I need a mimosa
I'ma chill with Sasha, burning on his roster
She is just a prosta, who just need a pastor?
She break niggas off proper, my rear view long blacked up
I hold the keys, yo, throw them lights up
Are you the son of a legend? Well, I'm the our father
I make you bench to them dreams, cause I'm the all-star
Are you the son of a legend? Well, I'm the our father
I make you bench to them dreams, cause I'm the all-star
And it's the 90s
And it's the 1960s horror
And it's the 1960s horror
And our night dreams never bug
Well, black, I'm not the rock star
Let's go bomb a cop car
Can you bang the flip top?
Will you be a victim?
We control the system
Surrendered by all the hoodlums
Imagine her getting her looks on
Her attitude's off on the good ones
I hold the keys, yo, throw them lights up
I hold the keys, yo, throw them lights up
I hold the keys, yo, throw them lights up
I hold the keys, yo, throw them lights up
I hold the keys, I'll throw the lights out
I hold the keys, I'll throw the lights out
Dope, need some more, but it's hot