(Hook)
Oh, oh, luxury
Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that
Oh, oh, collard greens
Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that
Oh, oh, down with that shit
King shit, smoke this, get down with the shit, aye
Oh, oh, down with the shit
This, that, pop this down with the shit
(Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q)
Smoke this, drink this
Straight to my liver
Watch this, no tick
Yeah, I’m the nigga
Gang rap, X-mas
Smoke, shots I deliver
Faded, Vegas
Might sponsor the killer
Shake it, break it
Hot hot for the winter
Drop it, cop it
Eyes locked on your inner object
Rock it, blast-blast, new beginnings
Lovely, pinky how not I remember
Fiending
Gimme, gimme, gimme some
Freak the freckles off your face
Frenchy, freaking, swapping tongue
Click my link and spread your buns
Loose your denim, make it numb
Blow it baby, no Saddam
Icky, icky, icky
Fucking in the car service
Thank me for the car pool
Chromosome, part full
Prolly off a Norco
And gas, not the Arco
Popping since the intro
You shopping from the window
Play my favorite tempo
(Verse 2: Lil-Freezy)
Hol Up Biatch!
You know who it be
Freezenation in other words its that homie Freeze
I'm poppin these bitches pussies
Yo man girl he is a rookie
He looks like a fuckin wookie
Does he sound like *Noise*
I fight like this
On a night like this
Come to the club I'mma steal yo bitch
I am more than a man I'mma boss
No Maybach Rick Ross
And when you play my shit on blast you know you ain't ever gon pause
And when you hear doo doo doo doo look out for the fuzz
I drop a 10 on this
I'm goin in on this
I'm blowin shit
I'm blowin on some real swisher swisher shit some swisher shit
You knowin that a homie gettin real lit he real lit
When he slow it down (down down)
Hol up lemme blow this bitch
Stra Straight Straight to the mothafuckin moon
Atmosphere the clearest
I'm lookin atchu mothafuckin goons
Wonder where your career is?
You can nearly play every fuckin toon
I know every lyric
Drop that top on the route 09
Is it my Camero that ya'll fearin ahh!
(Hook)
Oh, oh, luxury
Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that
Oh, oh, collard greens
Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that
Oh, oh, down with that shit
King shit, smoke this, get down with the shit, aye
Oh, oh, down with the shit
This, that, pop this down with the shit
(Verse 3: ScHoolboy Q)
Bummy nigga famous, straight from the bottom
Broke niggas hate it, still never robbed 'em
Guns in the basement, out they have a problem
Kush be my fragrance, we love marijuana
Function on fire, burn the roof off this motherfucker
Psych ward is ballin', dope craze like no other
Weed steady blowing, pass the blunt to my Mama
Runs in the family, puff-puff keep a nigga fiending uh
Faded faded faded right
Shot glass super size, she gon' get some dick tonight
Meet me at the W, and no its not the westside
Stick it up ya southside (Icky icky icky)
Baller futuristic, groovy gangsta with an attitude
What these niggas make a year, I spend that on my daughter shoes
Smoking weed and drinking, all the college students loving Q
We gon' turn it out until the neighbors wanna party too
(Hook)
Oh, oh, luxury
Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that
Oh, oh, collard greens
Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that
Oh, oh, down with that shit
King shit, smoke this, get down with the shit, aye
Oh, oh, down with the shit
This, that, pop this down with the shit
