Bitch.
We big pep and playboy.
Bitch.
On the West Coast.
With my super friends.
On my riders.
Escalators, navigators, sweet wells and choppers, spinning.
On my 63s and Impalas.
Southside shot callers.
Lexani rims.
If you want down, you should catch me at the studio doing burpees all night.
Freestyle by my crazy ass rides Gun shots and fights on a regular basis My enemies got smiling faces Young hoes up six-folds and dope bars
My Escalette's packed on Whittier Boulevard.
It's pretty well from Chava.
Stay on spinning.
Let Sonny Rims just keep on whooping it.
I'm pimping.
all juiced up seen the silver navigator airbagged up it's so rough so tough to stay on top
There's too many ballers on too many blocks.
I've been rocked with a block.
Bitches talking about my pussy's on fire.
Definition Riles.
Whole spring for ice cream and tap size.
Self-ease.
L-A-C-A, moving things right clean on a Sunday.
A fun day filled with freaks that blow down for gunpoint.
We're fools that hate, shall we?
Riders, like short and shitty, navigating escalates.
Giving ain't easy, putting a chick in this pep game.
G-I-N-D, and bangin' on these blizzards, cause hell, that thing changed since 92'.
That's the most.
The same color wheels.
Turn it up high, pop your brakes, let the spinners fly.
We are Escalade, do you know why?
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
and Mercedes, big with your baby.
All my brothers, Southsiders,
Poppin' heat from your lowriders.
I pack heat on the beat like a big shot bang.
Shootin' down all these lames like a shootin' range.
Big Blaze.
Rockin' up before it's days with my kid Fast Waves.
Bit, bit.
Fitbit.
Same color wheels.
