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My beat low My bass low I ride low, she go low My beat low My bass low I ride low, used to tell her what you said, bro Me, Juicy J, got too many hoes Me, Juicy J, got too many flows Clique ballin' out like the '98 Lakers Pull up in a million dollar car and violate it Fly to Cancun on Sunday, land in France on Monday Faded at the fashion show, tryna grab a bitch off the runway I ain't even pack no clothes, nothin' but rubbers in my suitcase Laid her on the mic, menage with my model and her roommate And if I tip a bitch, we fuckin', it ain't no discussion It cost to be the boss, my n-gga you way outta your budget Who you playin' with lil homie? Your life won't cost me nothin' Juicy J so presidential, don't make me press that button My beat low My bass low I ride low, she go low My beat low My bass low I ride low, she go low, low Songtexte I get a brick, you know I get it for the, low Her ass so fat, I told her drop it down, low I do a verse, you know my prices ain't, low Lil¡ momma know I like my kisses down Me, Nicki M, I got too many wins Pull up with them V twins in my engine All this ice all around me like a penguin I ain't talkin' bowlin' but I'm with the kingpin I pull up with a n-gga with a real big dick That's just so good, man a bitch can't quit I ain't ever have a beat that a bitch ain't rip I'm fly every day but a bitch ain't trippin' You be on that bull, you be on Scott Pippen I be pimp walkin', I'm limpin' C's on my bag so they think I'm crippin' Every n-gga in here wanna know what I'm drinkin' Myx Moscato, n-ggas I keep a pillow with me just because I'm tired of n-ggas I'm with some flawless girls, they're pretty and they're thick Bust it open quick, put that pussy on his lips, bitch My beat low My bass low I ride low, she go low My beat low My bass low I ride low, she go low, low I get a brick, you know I get it for the, low Her ass so fat, I told her drop it down, low I do a verse, you know my prices ain't, low Lil' momma know I like my kisses down I'm Lil Bibby, Mr. Everything-For-The-Low Mr. Leave-Her-At-Home-He'll-Take-Your-Ho Mr. Stack-That-Dough Young rich n-gga used to trap by the store, now taxed for the flow Tell a rap n-igga, "I'm not feelin' you" Stop frontin', boy, y'all not criminals At the top, man they talkin' 'bout killin' you Got two 9's but they're not identical I'll never trait on my squad, n-gga Ball hard, n-gga, I'm Michael Jordan, you Lebron, n-gga In other words, you a fraud, n-gga I'll pull your card, n-gga I'm a young boss, I'm runnin' shit Call me King Tut, all this gold on, I be blinged up If they try to rob, got the things tucked, you ain't seen nothin' At the club, their jaws drop when I pull up in that Benz 30 deep, 'bout 20 heats, still stomp him out with my Timbs I'm in here chillin' with my feet up I told y'all that I'm 'bout to heat up Man it's time to kill all this weak stuff Pull the beat up, watch me eat up My beat low My bass low I ride low, she go low My beat low My bass low I ride low, she go low, low I get a brick, you know I get it for the, low Her ass so fat, I told her drop it down, low I do a verse, you know my prices ain't, low Lil' momma know I like my kisses down Aus Songtexte Mania