feat. Mr. Pookie

(Mr. Lucci)

Say hold that down lil' daddy (wussup)

ahh its nothin'

man I thought I just seen the rollahs

gon head and keep on chokin'

do you see them scopin (where)

over there wit the long

4 g's I bet I go get her

or my name ain't the wig splitta, should I naw

I'm just flossin up on the scene

let me gon and drop mo screens

nigga lets gon and splurge mo green

hop in the bourbon, poppin the ???,

rockin the curb, in my excursion on these fools

chop chop the block, then cock the glock

spread the word here comes my crew

Lucci, tre 80 set straight ain't no hate in the lone star state

while we bake the cake, then brake the plate

Them the south side playas that a ya date

cause we B-A-L-L-I-N what I'm known fo knockin down yo stone do'

wit 4 12's and my chrome tote

fuck up in the reefer smoke

when I turned the corner wit my head blown

talkin' bout my business deals and my sprint phone wit icons

if you thank you sho they hold on cause Mr. Lucci puttin in work

candy apple below the seal wit a wood wheel sittin on some skirts



(chorus repeat 2x)

When we come around the block wit the glock cocked and I scream pop

there they go, motherfucker there they go

When we comin down the lane grippin grain let 'em hang what they sayin

where they go, motherfucker where they go



(Mr. Pookie)

Bendin corners on twanky twak

wit double coated candy pain't

ducked down in my bucket seats wit a box of sweets wit a cup of drank

puff the dank all through the streets

drop the top, cock the heat, pop the trunk

pop the screens, pop the do's, point the beam

stay in front sippin lean

wit the bubblelize wit the candy queen



-acap