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letra de show out (remix) - prezidential candidates

[hook: roscoe dash]
oh
everywhere i go i
dress up and i go out
i got lots of gwalla, let me show you how i show out
everywhere i go i
dress up and i go out
i got lots of gwalla, let me show you how i show out

(show out) gucci, louis, prada, man i’m all about my dollars
(show out) i be all up in the mall, ballin like there’s no tomorrow
(show out) gucci, louie, prada, man i’m all about my dollars
(show out) i be all up in the mall ballin like there’s no tomorrow

[verse 1: prez]
every time i show out, you know i bring the glow out
girls around me wanna throw down, if i’m payin’ got my dough out
mostly get the free ones, you know i choose to keep ones
like usher, they my freak ones, and i love them good physique ones
you know i’mma show out, play my songs and go out
speakers, yeah they blow out, like pimps i keep the hoes out
this mixtape goin’ gold, dawg, we breakin’ the mold, dawg
this game’s ’bout to unfold, dawg, so icy, that we we cold, dawg
someone p-ss the dutchie, this girl really wanna touch me
and i see some m-th-f-ckas, i think they gon try jump me
rims always be spinnin’, put your hands up, ‘cuz we winnin’
stay in church ‘cuz i be sinnin’, rewind this beat to the beginning
(yahh)
ok
ok

[hook: roscoe dash]
everywhere i go i
dress up and i go out
i got lots of gwalla, let me show you how i show out
everywhere i go i
dress up and i go out
i got lots of gwalla, let me show you how i show out

[verse 2: nasty boi]
i’m feelin’ 151 today, and maybe a blunt tonight
the way i’m takin’ delta on this next flight, i’m ridin’ on an airplane
got my rockstar cats on the side, call ’em high street, blowin’ the roof off this b-tch
fistpumpin’ you know we be so stoned not knowin’ what’s goin’ on
flip the lights on, still dark everywhere we out, it be a blackout, ‘cuz we always spark
gettin’ crunk, crunk, crunk, gettin’ high, high, high
tryna fight with me, i wouldn’t even try
comin’ in strapped, feeling like everybody’s gonna die
stepped on the scene and had all the haters starin’
my swag’s on fire, can you see the sh-t glarin’
i’m whippin’ down the freeway, stereo blarin’
everybody be hatin’ on the chain i be wearin’
i can rap on a beat without even swearin’
no doubt i be hearin’ this crowd cheerin’
i’m all about my benz, money, and strippers
‘cuz when i see the girls they all wanna be strippin’
you wanna be young forever? then come wit me
i’m no jay-z, but we smoke that tree
don’t worry ’bout it, wit me it’s free
ok
ok

- prezidential candidates

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