This boy Wiz Khalifa man And I'm a my shit, yeah, bitch I hope ya'll is used to hearing my voice by now, And if not, get to it
I up from a California dream again, Next to someone's who I'll probably never meet again You her a groupie hoe? Ask me I say she a fan Spending all her hours thinking bout she gonna do and when I be on that 747 frequent shit You get all the press and try to check for I'm due to land And get in the daytime, way about the PM Tryin' to finish out this dream so I be sleeping in And ask me if I'm lonely I ain't long as my money good she my one and only Critics got they face up in my gettin nosy But I'm out here putting on for anyone who knows me No, I ain't in my position getting bigger and ifa chief and bring alisa oz I stay with me some backup, in you run up on me He gonna the pastor, make a nigga holy
call me the 501 Don Mr. know he got a pear of on My marijuana strong and hoes ain't shit but probably calls Dog I met her at the club, we was fucked up it to my crib we was both drunk, driving Now you on lame shit, claiming you're my main bitch Do us both a fav, don't text, call me, darling I was made to ball it's Spaulding rolling They say I'm the bomb and they Wiz, atomic Hotter than New Orleans, or a geoge grill, And Chevy eyes caught Jalil I'll is what I go so I sudafed, Big dog nigga all ya'll fed Money in the all through the vent Still got time to