Let’s start the year off right
I smell that Killa Season comin' on Listen…
I do what I do, but boo won’t get a chicken dinner
Unless you kiss my wood, you won’t get a splinter
She agreed, not surprised, and merked off
Not Jamaican, but I gave her my jerk sauce
No oxtails, knew me for rock sales
She ain’t drink liquor, but I gave her a cocktail
Gave me great knowledge, call her Top Yale
You gon' make me cum?
She replied: «I will not fail»
Hot damn — «you chockin' me, goddamn»
Treat my dick like some dice and shake that shit with your hot hands
I could start a riot, you cannot deny it Talkin' loud — but they pockets quiet
Your girl all on my zipper
In the club, baby, more of them tippers
Better yet, man, more of them strippers
Matter fact, man, more of them lit blunts
Aye, and you know this
Aye, and you know this
Aye, and you know this
You so focused, I’m glad you know this
In a average car, at the bar
On the dance floor, smack, watch me grab her bra
But I still get fly and only doubted y’all
When the sun hit the jewels, turn to Avatar
Yeah, but in my pocket are ghost locs
No folks, that’ll bring it in on a rowboat
No joke, blow smoke, thought I had no hope
Then I copped a yacht, guess I showboat
Yeah, I guess I showboat
Catch me on the water, baby, that’s how hope floats
My chauffeur in Louis, my loafers are Gucci
Tonight your girl my bitch, and I’m hosting her coochie
Let’s start the year off right…