This boy Wiz Khalifa man And I'm a talk my shit, yeah, I hope niggas 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 daughter who I'll 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 747 flying frequent shit You get all the and try to check for when I'm due to land And get in the daytime, way about the PM Tryin' to finish living out this dream so I be in And ask me if I'm lonely I ain't long as my money good cause she my one and Critics got they face up in my gettin nosy But I'm just out putting on for anyone who knows me No, I ain't in my position comfy Drinking and ifa chief and bring alisa oz I stay with me some backup, in you run up on me He gonna play the pastor, make a holy
They me the 501 Don Mr. know he got a pear of on My strong and these 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 some lame shit, claiming you're my bitch Do us both a fav, text, don't call me, darling I was made to ball like Spaulding rolling say I'm the bomb and they call Wiz, atomic Hotter than New Orleans, or a foreman grill, And eyes caught like Jalil I'll is I go so I need sudafed, Big dog nigga all ya'll fed in the wall all through the vent Still got to blow