Green Juice (feat. Pharrell Williams)
Yeah, this for Harlem
Silk City, Vado, what up?
Millz, what up?
Rest in peace, Nard
Star Trak (roof!)
Top down, Zonda scream, "Hallelujah"
I'm the king, I'm the ruler (roof)
Got Pharrell up in Harlem
Chillin' on the crate with a block of shooters (roof)
Beach chair on the block, watch the cops
Gotta keep the Glock in cooler (roof)
Hoo (hoo) hoo (hoo) hoo (hoo) hoo (hoo) hoo (hoo!)
Flip phone shorty in the corner store
Pull a black car out the mink velour
Tiffany stones all in my jaw
Tank in the crib with fish from Jaws
I'm liftin' off, get so high, I could kiss the Lord
Don Corleone, I been a boss, in a Maybach with the ceilin' off
Hol' up, hol' up
Hol' up, hol' up
You cannot make this shit if you're a fraud
They do not make nothin' like this no more
'Cause we got the caterpillar chains, and the butterfly doors (yeah)
Flappin' platinum, but still we soar (ah-ah)
Strappin', strappin', finna go to a war (ah-ah)
Zoom, zoom, imagine tappin' into your core (ah-ah)
Shells hangin' out of the vintage Porsche (right)
New crib like a synagogue (hoo) (hoo)
Chew all these rappers up for free
Never ask how much the dinner cost
Renell sip Hen', she gettin' sauced
And wanna make love on the tennis court
You wonder why they call me the Lord?
You pussy-ass niggas, I invented y'all
I run the game, I set the bar (roof)
Fuckin' shit up like a wreckin' ball
Adidas deal with the three stripes
Sit back and watch the check evolve (whoop)
Hol' up, hol' up
Hol' up, hol' up
You cannot make this shit if you're a fraud
They do not make nothin' like this no more
'Cause we got the caterpillar chains, and the butterfly doors (yeah)
Flappin' platinum, but still we soar (ah-ah)
Strappin', strappin', finna go to a war (ah-ah)
Zoom, zoom, imagine tappin' into your core (ah-ah)
Learnin' the past and the present's yours
Your most valuable possession, yeah, yeah, yeah (hey)
Silk City, Vado, what up?
Millz, what up?
Rest in peace, Nard
Star Trak (roof!)
Top down, Zonda scream, "Hallelujah"
I'm the king, I'm the ruler (roof)
Got Pharrell up in Harlem
Chillin' on the crate with a block of shooters (roof)
Beach chair on the block, watch the cops
Gotta keep the Glock in cooler (roof)
Hoo (hoo) hoo (hoo) hoo (hoo) hoo (hoo) hoo (hoo!)
Flip phone shorty in the corner store
Pull a black car out the mink velour
Tiffany stones all in my jaw
Tank in the crib with fish from Jaws
I'm liftin' off, get so high, I could kiss the Lord
Don Corleone, I been a boss, in a Maybach with the ceilin' off
Hol' up, hol' up
Hol' up, hol' up
You cannot make this shit if you're a fraud
They do not make nothin' like this no more
'Cause we got the caterpillar chains, and the butterfly doors (yeah)
Flappin' platinum, but still we soar (ah-ah)
Strappin', strappin', finna go to a war (ah-ah)
Zoom, zoom, imagine tappin' into your core (ah-ah)
Shells hangin' out of the vintage Porsche (right)
New crib like a synagogue (hoo) (hoo)
Chew all these rappers up for free
Never ask how much the dinner cost
Renell sip Hen', she gettin' sauced
And wanna make love on the tennis court
You wonder why they call me the Lord?
You pussy-ass niggas, I invented y'all
I run the game, I set the bar (roof)
Fuckin' shit up like a wreckin' ball
Adidas deal with the three stripes
Sit back and watch the check evolve (whoop)
Hol' up, hol' up
Hol' up, hol' up
You cannot make this shit if you're a fraud
They do not make nothin' like this no more
'Cause we got the caterpillar chains, and the butterfly doors (yeah)
Flappin' platinum, but still we soar (ah-ah)
Strappin', strappin', finna go to a war (ah-ah)
Zoom, zoom, imagine tappin' into your core (ah-ah)
Learnin' the past and the present's yours
Your most valuable possession, yeah, yeah, yeah (hey)
Credits
Writer(s): Pharrell Williams, Chad Hugo, Darold Durard Brown
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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