Who

Foreign cars everywhere
Bad bitches everywhere, take the tool everywhere
We make this money everywhere
Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere
These niggas straight outta the hood
They goin' to Paris
That whip that we whippin' exotic
These bitches exotic on gas

Pull up and hop out a foreign car
And I'm gettin' trailed by a foreign broad
I'm livin' life like an Avatar
I got a stick when I pull up on y'all
Who the fuck think I'm a sucka?
Who the fuck think I won't pull up and let loose?
I got three bitches with me
I'ma pull up on Bleveland, they gon' fuck the crew
Who gonna stop me now? Who's gonna stop me now?
Who's gonna stop me, boy? Who?
I can't get all of you, somebody come with me
Just in case you can tie shoes
How many times have I told you
If you don't fuck everyone that'll be rude?
How many times have I told you
To bring me me bags and you could be cool

Check gang
Let's have a moment of silence for niggas ain't 'round with us
Doin' bookin', come through
Splash on niggas, on the gas on niggas
In Milan eatin' fettuccine
Front row with the fashion show niggas
Fuck around and go buy a Lamborghini
I'm goin' NASCAR on niggas
Puffin' on the la la
I've been the fly guy when niggas rocked Izod
I'm movin' chickens like Popeye
Old money, new money
Nigga never gettin' old, threw a young nigga rock
Cookin' up the raw dope right now
Cookin' up the raw dope right now
Used to break down a whole ounce
I used to break down a whole ounce
I gotta weigh the money up now
It's takin' too long for me to count
Decisions, decisions
You fuckin' with me, that's a head on collision
Them MACs and them TECS and them FN's, them 9s
We hustled, we struggled, we made it and grind
Nigga this Avatar
Aye the Young Thug goin' brazy, Young Thug goin' brazy!

Hannah Montana! Bangin' in red bandanas, blatt, blatt!
They wanna fuck on me cause I keep choppas with ammo
Niggas gon' hate on me cause I'm at the top with bro though
Oooh! Head honcho, hold up, kick in your mom door, shoot with the 4 4
Hell is you doin'?
Hold up, wait, I can't breathe, nigga
Half a mil' I done took on my street, nigga
All white, Thug fit, I won't eat, nigga
Ran off with them keys, I won't see them niggas
Geeked up but the money geek
I run bands up on another street
Best stylist in the world can't dress me
Keep a pistol just in case he wanna test me
I keep racks and all of my niggas gon' eat
I keep racks and all of my niggas gon' eat
Where's Tar? Man I need me some Xans
I just left the beach I'm having all of the sand

Pull up and hop out a foreign car
And I'm gettin' trailed by a foreign broad
I'm livin' life like an Avatar
I got a stick when I pull up on y'all
Who the fuck think I'm a sucka?
Who the fuck think I won't pull up and let loose?
I got three bitches with me
I'ma pull up on Bleveland, they gon' fuck the crew
Who gonna stop me now? Who's gonna stop me now?
Who's gonna stop me, boy? Who?
I can't get all of you, somebody come with me
Just in case you can tie shoes
How many times have I told you
If you don't fuck everyone that'll be rude?
How many times have I told you
To bring me me bags and you could be cool



Credits
Writer(s): Jerome Kern, Oscar Ii Hammerstein, Otto Harbach
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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