| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| - |
|
|||
|
[Hook: x2]
Come in the place and trip Thats what I'm talkin about Pour yourself a taste and sip Thats what I'm talkin' about Nigga don't waste the trip Thats what I'm talikin' about I'ma try it, see if it fit Thats what I'm talkin about Cherrywine taste nigga Thats what I'm talkin' about I go to the church and get my soul I go to my cousin and get my dough I go the mirror and get my love I go to my woman and ask for drugs Go to the office and earn my pay I go to my label and get my look I go to my momma ,she brings me home I go to the limit and keep on goin' I don't miss a beat Girls think I'm sweet, niggaz get the heat Thats what Thats what I'm talkin about [Hook] Go to my sound, enjoy my crown Go to my heart and trip on love Go to the pill and get my thrill Go to the devil, run up my bill I go to my mind, design my crime Go to my babies, 'cause that's the truth Go to my psalms, 'cause that's the bomb Go to my niggaz who play to win My sounds float the sky Girls think I'm shy, niggaz know I'm high Thats what Thats what I'm talkin about [Hook] Champagne buzz so your mind is soft Getting' all the bitches, how much that cost? Floss, but your talent don't balance Get so far from how fresh we are Got sex appeal, mass appeal, drug appeal Guns, guns, guns, for rea/l Hoes do it for the cash Might be a good crook But your back is trash Love one, let me do it Get the niggaz up to it Bring the ladies back into it I tell you something different Build a new song, drive it down your block Now that's pimpin' [Hook: w/ ad libs] Yeah we whippin up Crowds around Blow the sound, let it pour Get your throne, hold your own Put a little pressure, you'll see who's grown Diamond thoughts, hearts of dough Pimp shades, Couintreau Roll your dice man, you never know [Hook] |
||||||
| 2. |
| - |
|
|||
| 3. |
| - |
|
|||
|
C'mon, fly with black stars
Bitches in hot cars Moving in sequence Under thick white clouds Rebel with that cause Fuck with my guitars I'm fly off the deep end Drown in these sweets, man Ooh, that's hotter Loaded and cocked up Chroming your block up To the stage from the lock up All hear my new pop Bottles and guns pop One hundred on the drop The sound at the end, it's hot [CHORUS] It's gangster It's so fly Baby it's thugged out And everybody looks so high Roll like a rock kid Piles of blow did A million dollar nest and You hang at Hef's crib Looking so customize Shades over high eyes Striking up a deal Won't shit It's surprised man Kisses to Rolling Stone MTV at my home I'm all about my music Though my style is all my own Back at the hotel They giving it, oh well Let's see how this blow smells And wait for the dry spell [CHORUS] C'mon, fly with the black stars Bitches in hot cars Moving in sequence Under thick white clouds Rebel with that cause Fuck with my guitars I'm fly off the deep end Drowning the streets, man Ooh, that's hotter Loaded and cocked up Chroming your block up To the stage from the lock up All hear my new pop Coochies (or Coogis?) and guns pop One hundred on the drop The sound at the end, it's hot [ALTERNATE CHORUS] It's fashion It's high end Everbodys so fly Baby it's thugged out And everybody looks so high |
||||||
| 4. |
| - |
|
|||
| 5. |
| - |
|
|||
| 6. |
| - |
|
|||
| 7. |
| - |
|
|||
| 8. |
| - |
|
|||
| 9. |
| - |
|
|||
| 10. |
| - |
|
|||
| 11. |
| - |
|
|||





