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letra de goldie - pollie pop

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i said it must be cause a n-gga got dough
extraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold
hoes at my shows they be stripping off they clothes
and them college girls write a n-gga name on they toes
n-ggas talk sh-t ’til they get lockjaw
chrome to ya dome ’til ya get glockjaw
party like a cowboy or a rockstar
everybody play the tough guy ’til sh-t pop off

let’s take it to the basics, you in the midst of greatness
my martin was a maison, rocked margiela with no laces
cristal go by the cases, wait hold up that was racist
i would prefer the aces, ain’t no different when you taste it
a 40 ounce to chase it, that’s just an understatement
i’m early to the party but my ‘rari is the latest
somehow it seems girls in they late teens
remind me your favorite jeans cause they naked cause you famous
life’s a mothaf-cka, ain’t it? these other rappers -n-s
so tell me what your name is, i’ma tell it to my stainless
you aim it for you bang it let that banger leave you brainless
it’s just me, myself and i and mothaf-ckas that i came with
miscellaneous, n-ggas wanna hate on me
until i tell ’em to they face they ain’t no g
low key, n-ggas mad cause i’m smooth puffing zig zags
tell ’em quit the riff raff b-tching with your b-tch -ss

i said it must be cause a n-gga got dough
extraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold
hoes at my shows they be stripping off they clothes
and them college girls write a n-gga name on they toes
n-ggas talk sh-t ’til they get lockjaw
chrome to ya dome ’til ya get glockjaw
party like a cowboy or a rockstar
everybody play the tough guy ’til sh-t pop off

yes, i’m the sh-t, tell me do it stink?
it feel good waking up to money in the bank
three model b-tches, cocaine on the sink
and i’m so ’bout it ’bout it, i might roll up in a tank
cause my chain came from cuba, got a lock up on the link
and them red bottom loafers just to compliment the mink
eyes ch-nk, rolling up that dank, blowing on that stank
what you mean? tell me what you drink, i’m on that kissing pink
you could call me billy gates, got a crib in every state
man on the moon, got a condo out in sp-ce
open up your legs, tell me how it taste
and them n-ggas talking sh-t so tell ’em, “tell it to my face”
tell that b-tch, hop up on my d-ck, rolled up on her quick
in a six, told her suck the d-ck, motorboat her t-ts
i’m the sh-t, n-ggas mad cause i’m smooth puffing zig zags
tell ’em quit the riff raff b-tching with your b-tch -ss

i said it must be cause a n-gga got dough
extraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold
hoes at my shows they be stripping off they clothes
and them college girls write a n-gga name on they toes
n-ggas talk sh-t ’til they get lockjaw
chrome to ya dome ’til ya get glockjaw
party like a cowboy or a rockstar
everybody play the tough guy ’til sh-t pop off

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