iCU
Lyrics
Hook: Gorilla Zoe
I see you, now you see me
I see you, now you see me
I see you, now you see me
I see you, now you see me
Verse 1: Riff Raff
Hopped out the whip, ice got my lips frostbit
Boy I don't want your damn girl she got too many kids
My shoes, Sauconey, hook like James Toney
I got infrared dots, the same size as pepperoni
Chilling in the post, Riff Raff known from coast to coast
I ain't talking bout that breakfast when I hit you with that toast
I'm gonna fly continental, shoes presidential
Acres Homes credentials, but my house is residential
I done swung river oats, the palace up in Dallas
Eating Coogi salad, grape stains on the baggage
I done flipped cross the atlas, across the seven seas
Me and Licia' Keys push keys down TC
Jester, and I'm a wood wheel molester
Drop top compressor with my kin, Uncle Fester
I done swung with the best of, swung through the breeze
I see you, nah you see me
Hook
Verse 2: Fat Pimp
Yes I'm high and I been smoking
On two pills so you know I'm rolling
Out my mind like Kurt Cobain
Bout to start slapping bitches like my name Rick James
Bitches all on my dick cause I make a lot of money
I fuck real good that's why they love my dougie
Obese type of money, keep my pockets looking chubby
Fat, cute little nigga, I ain't never been ugly
Heart of a hustler, mind of a G
Player hating niggas can't fuck with me
Gucci on my body while they all jock me
And the chain on my neck land me a hundred G's
Dope boy money led me straight to the bank
Let's play a game, big bank take little bank
Get like you? Nah, get like me
Tell ? you need to let me Bobby B, hey
Hook
Verse 3: Riff Raff
Canary, Mercedes, crawling like a baby
Drank got me lazy, iced out feeling crazy
I feel cool, I feel straight, paper license plate
Like that boy Wayne Gretzky, Riff Raff bout' to skate
Down your street, down the feeder, tangerine Beemer
Clothes out the cleaner, I ain't thinking misdemeanor
I'm thinking kind of groovy, might move packs
I done popped trunk on your grandma's cul de sac
Riff Raff don't play, I'm a pro grade
Imma' sit sideways at a Chinese buffet
She done drove down from Dallas, can't be mad at us
I took her to my room, you know, the pool palace
You see I know how to propaganda, your boys at Ruckers park with improper handles
The paint is egg nog, the seats is butterscotch
The flow irregular, freestyle un-orthodox
Writer(s): HORST CHRISTIAN SIMCO
Copyright(s): Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc., Songtrust Ave
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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