Yeah,
yeah.
Hi,
rollers.
What's up?
Dreams Houston.
What's up?
Onyx.
What's up?
You does it baby.
You does it baby.
Harlem nights.
What's up?
Treasures.
What's up?
Legends.
What's up?
Just love me, baby.
Just love me, baby.
Yeah,
to all my Houston,
Texas country muffins,
baby.
Let me hit that liquor in that you puffing and after that,
I'm gonna throw that throw that young money up and we can both
watch it fall like it's bungee jumping man.
I'm so high next time.
We won't call it.
I don't shoot by.
Oh,
I almost forgot to blow the candles out because I don't
really want to fall asleep and like this house on fire.
Good night.
I'm still up.
I told my girl to lay down.
I see the bottle is full.
I'm about to drink it way down.
What up?
My nuggin man, you know, we stay down and I'm an
honorary resident of UVK town.
I'm on my way.
Yeah, I'm on my way.
I never give a give about it any day.
The music got slow and it just gets all pretty.
Me and pimple about to do it for the city in the same.
What up?
H time in the same.
What up?
What up?
Me and people about to do it for the city.
What up?
What up?
What up?
Money by the ton.
Bricks from prom.
P and F from nothing.
Mine on horse limbs.
Come on.
Dick is a hot shoe.
Hey, got it.
What did it was a nine?
Drank and got in the third row.
Six Apollo with the stick on the floor.
Billy photos with my drone on the dog.
Like what?
He'll figure out.
I'm barely full of dreaded for the young hog underdog.
Yellow lights on the ground cut through the fog.
Yellow diamonds on my finger.
Playing in the count.
My drone up on the from my pocket say stop.
Not because they ain't there.
I just greeted for some more.
I need some more.
Though I'm a P. I. M. P. for Sean.
What up?
What up?
H time in the same.
What up?
What up?
Me and pimple about to do it for the city.
Sweet James Jones.
Bump beater.
Well, it's the trilogy.
I got
the neighborhood.
So, let's just get I'm getting blowed.
riding,
banging,
get throwed in the candy,
painted low,
low,
chrome,
grill in front of it,
belts on the back of it,
my
chrome is shoes running,
shorty on the side of me to
straight up off the king,
cover,
cover,
don't care what
I don't but it would kill her I just keep on gripping grain
Tripping snakes Being driller ain't another brother realer
Blowing thousand dollar killer With that filo-pino bloated
I just got it from Manila About to snow up in my city
So let me put on my chinchilla In the Rory doing donuts
Like my name was Jay Dilla Dilla
All about the Skrilla So just point me to the tiller
Keep the work up in the attic And the money in the cellar
Your girl up in the second Automatics for the fellas
You see us in the back Then all you gotta do is tell her
What up,
what up Ace time in this thing
What up,
what up Me and Pimple about to do it for the city