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Holding, cracking, smoking, stacking Close down the club, I got your girl in the sack, and Got a skull in my hand like Hamlet Little sausages cooking in the sun, goddammit BGO til the sun goes home Lindsay Lohans digits on my telephone Hey go home and fuck them bitches from the east wing Holed up in DFW like I was the Burger King Got diamonds drippin off me like they might fall to their deaths A certs might help you with that goddamn breath Methamphetamine junkie doing the robot smurf Two or three K, 'bout what Im worth I got hoes on their toes at the close of discos, takin off their clothes In the throes of yours truly, damn I got the big bell ringing dingGot all the Ladies in the club all singin'Rollin Rollin Rollin Rollin I peed on the cake that I brought to your wake Got so much shit on my plate I need a fucking rake Fat falling out my mouth like a fat faucet Pushing all these words down your ear-holes with the greatest of ease, Please, man, a tweeze immaculate tweezersIm all crunk and g, fucked Angelina Jolie SongtexteAnd with my diamond visa, Im like a superman Zooming up on Sunday morning like only a Jedi Knight can Dont wear a dress, gotta hold on my pringle Snoop Dogg, Ludacris, Fifty on my single Rollin Rollin Rollin Rollin Holding, creeping, smoking, peeping All the babies on their strollers, strictly speaking Puerto Rican Smoking, stalking, holding, talking All the hot tubbies in the club on my jock, and Cabriolet, Escalade, Smirnoff, and Gatorade South Beach body with a manhatten mind my God, what a find Spitting image, honey, of a Cambodian Got the blades spinning, got the twenty-inch chrome Cool J on the player, twenty shots to the dome Tell me, hell yeah, whatcha doing later, hater Damn, look I hardly know her, then I had to ate her y'allGoddamn, let me tuck that shit up on the headboard Rub some baby lotion on my baby, make it so I could tell you what to say, and you can say it with a grunt When you see me in the club, then you know I?m on the hunt When were Rollin Rollin Rollin Rollin Damn, hotter than an all-beef patty sizzling on the grill Look, if looks could kill, I?d be a dead motherfucker Six feet, dead under the dirt Goddamn, you do good work, one look and I hurt Stereo cranked up to ten, two thousand watts and Some Heineken bottles in the trunk on ice DVD in the back showing some joint by Obie Trice Poppas pushing sixty, but he just don?t give a fuck Wearing a lime-green speedo like he was driving a truck Down the surface of a highway on the sun Whatd you say? Whatd you say, bitch? Hold my drink, let me get my gun Rollin Rollin Rollin Rollin Aus Songtexte Mania