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Verse 1 Uhuh, I need a gangster bitch N*gga I ain't lyin, Im talkin when I fuck She scream you need silence No domestic violence (violence) Just domestic diamonds So lemme ice you out So when you slidin down the pole Doin your Magic City thing Yo neck and wrist glow Im dreamin, she ain't a stripper, she a classy girl Goin off that Patron, she my nasty girl First name, Rachael, last name Jones SongtexteYou related to Nas, girls, Queens my second home You know.... we can tear it up Weekend in Cannes, then we comin to America ...She love that Gucci, never been to ATL But she love that Gucci Brrr! She taught me how to cook cage And I taught her how to cook crack And I chopped it on her back Now tell me where they do that Verse 2 I put her on a Greyham She know she better stay down Ride and die like my Bentley Man this bitch will never break down She my bustin baby, you should see her bust a tre pound Love Roc-A-Fella so much, she won't even call me Jay now She roll my weedman, like she my wingman Then we get high, play Tiger Woods on that weed damn Love is for a season, haters 365 And the game Cats and Dogs, keep your bitch by your side Got a hardtop Lambo, when the rain start to pour Not the rain outside, talkin the rain indoors Her girlfriend told her, that I was creepin with a stripper Told her I was courtside, watchin the wack ass Clippers Bitch please! Im a Laker fan and Kobe thats my n*gga Keep my grass cut so I can see when the snake slith her Shit, came out of no where like Khloe and Lamar Kinda got a n*gga thinkin maybe Im.. Verse 3 I let her drive the Range on our first date She the first one to put me on that Drake mixtape "I just wanna be successful baby" Take you out the Hudson jeans and redress you baby We can walk down Rodaeo, turn around, you on Melrose Fly to New York in the winter and try on some Timbos Or we can hit South Beach, fuck with Ross and Timbo The world is cherry pond, and we can slice it up like Kimbo You cook the rock, I break it down I wrap it up, you weigh them pounds I make the car, you start the car We can drive it out of town Im your nigga right? And you my bitch (Yea..) Even if they lock me up, she gon get them brakes there And when we get tired, we hit the truck stop and sit there And zip my 501's and she gon put her lips there The memoirs of a perfect bitch You gotta hold them down even if its.. Aus Songtexte Mania