| You know I got the fire
|
| And know NY to Cali though
|
| Way down in ATL they smokin' and drink, oh
|
| But do my thing in St. Louis, Chicago
|
| Kick out, kick out
|
| Then you flip out, flip out
|
| Then you dip out, dip out
|
| Tell ‘em (Put it in the air)
|
| Kick out, kick out
|
| Then you flip out, flip out
|
| Then you dip out, dip out
|
| Tell ‘em (Put it in the air)
|
| Well it’s your nigga lookin' jiggy riggy Rah
|
| Extraterrestrial hoes give me the jar
|
| Jaw jacker, 99 percent perfecto
|
| Millie hot booze in my biz more like peptol, cold
|
| Show room floor to the gazebo
|
| U.F.O. |
| bang the U.F.O. |
| shoe game
|
| Sheet freak man, The Knux, that’s the two names
|
| Staring on the whippy ass, this the very Shu Shang
|
| Skating on two, though, straight from the hoe
|
| To the booth in the VIP with the
|
| Krispy, that’s my dawg, I play Alpha
|
| He play Mohawk like Indian man Tanaka
|
| Chuck Taylor low rise, blue denim, blue star
|
| like Beckham the concoction
|
| Roll with the city boy, chic model, body type
|
| Mad kicks, clean figure, nails made, you got it right
|
| You know I got the fire
|
| And know NY to Cali though
|
| Way down in ATL they smokin' and drink, oh
|
| But do my thing in St. Louis, Chicago
|
| Kick out, kick out
|
| Then you flip out, flip out
|
| Then you dip out, dip out
|
| Tell ‘em (Put it in the air)
|
| Kick out, kick out
|
| Then you flip out, flip out
|
| Then you dip out, dip out
|
| Tell ‘em (Put it in the air)
|
| Georgia raise your speakers
|
| Cheesecake, Bistro, pea coat and sneakers
|
| Fresh day facial, my bad fresh basil
|
| B-racial hazel eyes bitch
|
| stuck with the slim broad
|
| Tryna get my dick higher than the tower of Nimrod
|
| Ay, but no brains
|
| She like to play the mental games, I laugh (hahaha)
|
| So look at Rah, flesh fresh, deaf and cleaned up
|
| Flexin', brown leather jacket, downtown casino
|
| You ain’t know rectangular
|
| Ending up in more bars than the phones at Cingular
|
| Won’t see me
|
| Way hot Vespa, laptop and a Latte (a Latte?)
|
| Yes, yes thank you man
|
| I be damn if I ain’t best dressed thinking man
|
| You know I got the fire
|
| And know NY to Cali though
|
| Way down in ATL they smokin' and drink, oh
|
| I do my thing in St. Louis, Chicago
|
| Kick out, kick out
|
| Then you flip out, flip out
|
| Then you dip out, dip out
|
| Tell ‘em (Put it in the air)
|
| Kick out, kick out
|
| Then you flip out, flip out
|
| Then you dip out, dip out
|
| Tell ‘em (Put it in the air)
|
| You know I got the fire
|
| And know NY to Cali though
|
| Way down in ATL they smokin' and drink, oh
|
| But I do my thing in St. Louis, Chicago
|
| Kick out, kick out
|
| Then you flip out, flip out
|
| Then you dip out, dip out
|
| Tell ‘em (Put it in the air)
|
| Kick out, kick out
|
| Then you flip out, flip out
|
| Then you dip out, dip out
|
| Tell ‘em (Put it in the air) |