want bad man alone I just want bad man alone Hey, although, no, no Don't want a man who flies Wears a cape or tights cuz' see They?re my kinda guy No
resume, feelin' real fresh today Rewrite history, I don't believe in yesterday And what's black beatle anyway? A fuckin' roach I guess that's why they got me sittin' in fuckin' coach My guy
Seems like these days the whole world's on fire Things keep blowing the hell up And while all those rubber neckers and lucky louies stand and slackjaw
paper like extra extra (read all about it) she said what if we reversed roles and you were front roll cheering at my first shows and a couple dollar later and some louis
thick she even gotta ask (?) Shes a rich girl, rich girl Shes a rich girl, rich girl Aye yo Aye yo Aye yo Soulja Boy Her 21st birthday she got a louis
have to ask She's a rich girl Rich girl She's a rich girl Rich girl Aye oh Aye oh Aye oh [Soulja Boy] 21st birthday she got a louis mercedes Drive
Young Money, D-town's all star [Tyga] It's Tyga No lion I'm eating No diner This species Don't diet Every milla fish Friday Squad deep Like the white guy
affect and live I like ya style mama, I'll just take it in stride Look in my eyes, do I look like the type of guy That run up on you and tell you a damn
you missed the great game Bob That first guy, I, I, I really liked him He, he was knock it out the park guy Please us, squeeze us That second guy liked
to your trailer I'll steal your trash Ask me a question, I love to lie, hey look girl is that Jimi Hendrix? 'Scuse me while I kiss your guy Everyone
man And my man's got the plans in his hand (Why wait until the heartbeat stops?) (Heartbeat props) I'm the type of guy that's sly like a fox An honor
more I rocked twenty thousand people, I was just on tour, nigga I'm Kan, the Louis Vuitton Don Bought my mom a purse, now she Louis Vuitton Mom I ain
my pony Bently, Coop, or Kobe's yup I'm ridin 24's This is for my Cincinnati, Cleveland, and Columbus folk I'll show ya how to do this Gucci-Louis everythang
would have Is whether or not to drive the Porsche, the Benz, or the Jag And every night before bed, flip the radio on And sip Dom Perignon to the quiet storm Gucci, Louis
a Saturday night The girl's jeans were tight and I got hype I thought about talkin to this little miss But I kept seen guy after guy gettin dissed Every guy
bad man when the burner was in his hand Now he's singin' sad songs with Elvis Three to the head, 'bout six cross the pelvis Ya fuck with the high guy
, you got it and you got me I got a thing for you Millionaire frames, Perrier rocks Everyday a different chain, nigga get ya gear up Name another fat guy
time to play But that's before they taught them gang bangers how to spray Not just L.A. but in the Bay and in Chicago and even St. Louis Every stadium