Yea, yea, yea/ Uh, uh... yo, yo/ 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/ Smoke this, drink this, straight to my liver/ Watch this, no tick, yeah, I'm the nigga/ Gang rap, X-mas, smoke, shots out the liver/ Faded, Vegas, might sponsor the killer, shit/ 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/ Fiendin'; gimme, gimme, gimme some/ Freak the freckles off your face, frenchy, freaking, swapping tongue/ Click my link and spread your buns, lose 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, poppin' since the intro/ You shoppin' from the window, play my favorite tempo/ 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/ Hold up, BIATCH! This your favorite song/ Translation: Ven aquí mami, ese culo/ Tu quieres coger mi huevos y papi molesto espero/ Chupa ese puto pendejo el pinche cabrón; let's get it/ Nights like this I'm a knight like this, sword in my hand, I fight like this/ I am more than a man, I'm a God bitch, touche, en garde/ Toupée drop and her two tits pop, out of that tank top and bra/ And when I say "Doo Doo Doo Doo!" Bitch, that be K. Dot/ She want some more of this - I give her more of this, I owe her this/ In fact, I know she miss the way I floored this, I'm forgis/ I know my Houston partners, drop a four on this, and focus/ And slow it down, alright, let me blow this bitch/ I'm famous, I blame this on you, cash in the mirror/ Hang in my penthouse roof, skyline the clearest/ Watch it, your optics, poppin' out, you look the weirdest/ Pop my top on the 105 head with no power steering, ah!/ 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/ 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 fiendin'/ Uh, faded faded faded right/ Shot glass super size, she gon' get some dick tonight/ Meet me at the W, and no it's not the westside/ Stick it up your 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/ 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/ Oh, oh, oh/