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Oooh Woah! Oooh There you go baby I'm positively poppin’, on my zit shit Tap the pussy proper, (No hands) it's a meniscus Dovey dovey dovey dove (We got it) We got the biscuits Dovey dovey dovey dove (We got it) We got the biscuits I get the dough baby, when I do-re-mi She got that Fa So Le Ah Ti I get the dough baby, when I do-re-mi She got that fire, so I'm tired I get the dough, like Homer (Doh!) All this paper look like homework (Woah!) Shawty a glacier in a cold world (It’s cold!) Her booty flat like Converse But when we converse, she said kind words I like how your mind work, let's see how your brain is I Concur Fuck 40 acres, want the whole world Never complacent, come and place it Right on my face lemme recline back SongtexteActually, where was you thinkin' of buying that (hmm hmm) I'm positively poppin', on my zit shit Tap the pussy proper, (No hands) it's a meniscus Dovey dovey dovey dove (We got it) We got the biscuits Dovey dovey dovey dove (We got it) We got the biscuits I get the dough baby, when I do-re-mi She got that Fa So Le Ah Ti I get the dough baby, when I do-re-mi She got that fire, so I'm tired Ooh ooh ooh ooh I got the dough, she got the cake Let's talk the show, no Ricki Lake They paper trail like everyday We make the paper percolate We had the tape to respect, they seen us We grew up with some sticky fingers ’Cause I was serving a whole arena I was right there when he had the Chingy Then I was the shy nigga, blingy blingy I open this bag, it get stinky, stinky Hop in the Jag and get itty bitty I’m outta town, man I miss the city I might just buy a whole block off of Delmar Throw me a fire show in the city Tryna inspire the little kiddies Tryna return it to the cribby, yeah I'm positively poppin’, on my zit shit Tap the pussy proper, (No hands) it's a meniscus Dovey dovey dovey dove (We got it) We got the biscuits Dovey dovey dovey dove (We got it) We got the biscuits I get the dough baby, when I do-re-mi She got that Fa So Le Ah Ti I get the dough baby, when I do-re-mi She got that fire, so I'm tired Damn, the fuck it's so cold in LA? This muh’fuckin piece of shit... Come on, damn! Nephew... in this bitch smokin' Nephew... smokin' Write that shit nigga Nowadays I, feel like I, can't fuck bitches without other bitches all knowing my business Nashey trois on my mind like my locs So I hop in my ride to meet you and your partner mmhm The Southside a Chicago mhmm On The 9 2 be proper plus Uber They surgin Ibaka parcore in that pussy Pop wheelies on your walls A nigga purge on yo pearls I stick it up like jewelry shop break ya down Like a hoopti Ol' faithful my getaway from my My getaway Aus Songtexte Mania