Texty: Terror Squad. Yeah Yeah Yeah.

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

Check it

You see the girl get's it popping like no other
Now they call me streets cause I, be on the block and I'm so gutter
My flow a butter; see Rem got a whole lot of game
But none of y'all lame dudes going to fuck her
I'm on some chill shit, but if you fronting then I will flip
I'll give it to a little chick real quick
Oh you a real bitch? You ain't a bit real

You got little tits and your face looks like em mitt till
First I'm a get it hot, then I'm a get a deal
My budget none stop, mine paying ten mills
And when I'm not in the hood, I'm rocking the hood
Smoke Vanilla Dutches and stuff on Holly a wood
And if I, pollyin' the dick it's got to be good
I tell him I could change his life just like the lottery could

And now I got him good, he believes me and he should
Some dudes won't go down but a lot of them would
I know this nigga name, eat it out, he like to eat it out
I just cooked in the crib and he still want to eat it out
Oh god its Remy Martin
In a hot pink Porsche with the purple carpets
Nigga

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

Oh god

Hot enough swinging crack, who could believe he's in the cockpit
Overseas moving key's like a locksmith
Rocks from wit sick in the sits of neck
All I do is warn cause that's the big boy jet
Uh, you never rocked with the R in Chicago
I picked up a bad bitch in a Marcielago
I got cribs better year estates man

I'm in L.A. with Atlanta plates fam
Still niggaz wanna go against crack
But that's like?, going against Shaq
And that's too much Diesel, I got too much people
Motherfuckers, you crazy I'll leave you
And I ain't got to tell how many sets I trip
But you can find me on the woods now that's a testament
Or maybe at a lounge with an extra bitch

Eyecandy of the month, god damn she's sick
She got a problem, I can help her with that
Tell her man that she's fuckin' with crack
Bet he won't do nothin'
Frontin' like he gon' do somethin'
Quick to tell you that his whole crew stunting
Talk to me, c'mon

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

Yeah, feel that right there
Nod your head to this shit right here, that real Hip Hop right there
It's cook coke crack, TS, Remy Mar
Album coming, summer's ours cocksuckers
True story, BX Burough