| Let’s go |
| I need somebody to send me some zig-zags back here |
| Yeah |
| A couple seconds of game, I got you telling me your bra-size |
| It’s YA up in the club, now it’s all eyes |
| We kick-back with the click-clack, sitting in my lap |
| While I’m dipping in my 'llac |
| And chicken heads always hit a nigga back |
| When they see 'em how I’m rolling, sitting on a stack |
| Scoe-Dellic, let a pro tell it |
| Cop a gang of snow, and let a hoe sell it |
| Blow dro 'til my eyes turn mo' yellow |
| Rule number one, when the cops come, no telling |
| So poetic, the flow genetic |
| And I couldn’t have said it better than my big bro said it |
| Take her to the spot, get flipped |
| She a flipper, once she off liquor |
| Hit it from the back, she get thicker |
| You better watch your back though, cause she’ll stick ya |
| Never call her back, cause she’ll flip |
| She a flipper, once she off liquor |
| Hit it from the back, she get thicker |
| After that, holla back, I get wit' cha |
| Everybody talking that garbage, don’t wanna walk wit' |
| What they talk, walk the walk |
| Wanna step to the street, ain’t got no heat |
| Ain’t ready to ride, when it’s on the spot |
| I come off the rain, I’m off the chain |
| I’m off the cane, like Eddie Cane off the 'caine |
| Yeah, all the same |
| And I’m in it for the dollars, ya feel me then holla (Scoe!) |
| And all the homies on the streets, ain’t got no love for a nigga on the beat |
| Cause a nigga on the beat got money in his pocket, now they jealous of me |
| So now they looking in my face like they wanna take something from me |
| Looking at my money |
| I’m like 'Nah', now Im looking at the honey |
| Like what she wanna do, wanna roll wit' the crew |
| Take her to the spot, get flipped |
| She a flipper, once she off liquor |
| Hit it from the back, she get thicker |
| You better watch your back though, cause she’ll stick ya |
| Never call her back, cause she’ll flip |
| She a flipper, once she off liquor |
| Hit it from the back, she get thicker |
| After that, holla back, I get wit' cha |
| Oh shizzle, Mr Scoe-Dizzle |
| Yo' brizzle all on my jizzle |
| Now this here’s where it counts |
| So walk in, +Jig+ it out, like +Show Me The Bounce+ |
| Show me the shake, and show me the drop |
| Show me the snake, and show me the watch |
| She was making it break, and making it pop |
| Wiggling it fast, then slow to making it stop |
| Now should I play my part, and do my thing? |
| Or keep it G? I chose to remain composed |
| Taking off her clothes |
| But I’m Young Scoe-Dellic, I don’t love them hoes |
| The B-O-Y wit' the D-U-I, and the SUV full of THC |
| The K-I-D wit' P-H-I-D, I burn rubber like I had HIV |
| Take her to the spot, get flipped |
| She a flipper, once she off liquor |
| Hit it from the back, she get thicker |
| You better watch your back though, cause she’ll stick ya |
| Never call her back, cause she’ll flip |
| She a flipper, once she off liquor |
| Hit it from the back, she get thicker |
| After that, holla back, I get wit' cha |