Show Out
Lyrics
I got lots of gwalla, lemme show you how I show out
Everywhere I go I
Dress up and I go out
I got lots of gwalla, lemme show you how I show out
(Show out) Gucci, Louie, Prada, man I'm all about my dollas
(Show out) I be all up in the mall ballin like it's no tomorrow
(Show out) Gucci, Louie, Prada, man I'm all about my dollas
(Show out) I be all up in the mall ballin like it's no tomorrow (out out out out)
I got lots of gwalla, I spend it
I'm a ball-a-hollic like my money, never ending
Pockets so swole just like Popeye on his spinach
Like Roscoe why you *grind* so hard? I'm like I'm tryna get it
And that's just how I do it, hit the mall with bout ten stacks; but you know that I blew it
Hit the blunt, and threw it That's just how we do it
VIP with MMI you know we gon be stupid
You know I make it rain hoe, Goosey by the bottle, blowin fruity like a mango
Gone and catch this change hoe, yeah we in this thang hoe
It's R-O-S-C-O-E dash, I'm headed for the fame hoe
Everywhere I go I
Dress up and I go out
I got lots of gwalla, let me show you how I show out
Everywhere I go I,
Dress up and I go out
I got lots of gwalla, let me show you how I show out
(Show out) Gucci, Louie, Prada, man I'm all about my dollas
(Show out) I be all up in the mall ballin' like it's no tomorrow
(Show out) Gucci, Louie, Prada, man I'm all about my dollas
(Show out) I be all up in the mall ballin' like it's no tomorrow (out out out out)
Show out, show out, show out, all I do is show out
Inhale the kushhh, then I blow out
SS Camero bitch, watch me as I go out
Back to the crib with yo girl and I go out
We don't even go out, all she do is hoe out
I don't even know her and I fucked er, what you know bout that?
See all she know is Roscoe got dem racks
Now my meat's between her buns like a fuckin' big mac
And everytime she place her order, I beat er then deport er
I get heads and tails like both sides of the quarter
Shawty bad, she expensive; so you prolly couldn't afford er
But every time I see her it's crunch time, like we in the fourth quarter, and I'm gone
Everywhere I go I
Dress up and I go out
I got lots of gwalla, let me show you how I show out
Everywhere I go I
Dress up and I go out
I got lots of gwalla, let me show you how I show out
(Show out) Gucci, Louie, Prada, man I'm all about my dollas
(Show out) I be all up in the mall ballin' like it's no tomorrow
(Show out) Gucci, Louie, Prada, man I'm all about my dollas
(Show out) I be all up in the mall ballin' like it's no tomorrow (out out out out)
Show out, all I do is show out
Watch me while I show out
Roscoe Dash a show out
Show out, show out, show out
Show out, show out, show out
Yeaah this ya boy Roscoe Dash Mr All Da Way Trunt up and I'm back in the booth nigga!
Ain't I the greatest of all these fuck niggas, real niggas saluute me and im gone
Writer(s): REBECCA ROSE JOHNSON, CHRISTIAN RICH
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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