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de Rolling Stone P

Yeah, I'm in that mode, I can't lose
Yeah, your friends are baddies, holdin' jatties looking like candy, ooh
These niggas been blurrin' my style for a while and I ain't jackin' it
This shit be blasphemous
I pop out bag with it
I feel like draggin' it
Shit, hmm, who run this shit? Riddle me this
They copy the sauce and then they dip
Let's get a one time for the killers
One time here for the realers
Now one time for the thrillers

This that wooshie boun, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun yeah, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun oh, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun yeah, this that wooshie boun

Now I'm trippin' I'm ready for hots
These niggas is pop, that bitch ain't it, she feelin' like a bop
I ain't judgin' but I'm judgin'
I ain't gunnin' but I'm gunnin'
Damn you laced, jersey in this bitch, let's get that straight

This that wooshie boun, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun yeah, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun oh, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun yeah, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun yeah, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun oh, this that wooshie boun
This that wooshie boun yeah, this that wooshie boun

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