Correction Paroles WE JUS WANNA GET HIGH par Future

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Paroles

[Intro]
(80-80-808 Mafia)
We just wanna get real high-igh-igh
(ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob)

[Verse 1]
That nigga know that bitch he got is mine, mine, mine
That's your bitch and that's my bitch too, nigga, don't forget
I was looking out my rearview, finger on the trigger
Switching bitches like tennis shoes, I damn near forget
I'm in love with my money, baby, I don't want shit

[Chorus]
Panamera view inside my truck like a penthouse
Dog-ass bitch, she just tryna suck my wrist off
All these blue strips, I might bust out and Crip walk
Take the cocaine with me, they gon' make a nigga chain talk
Choosin' on a pimp, I'ma slice it like a chainsaw
You lil' bitty shrimp, I'ma take a nigga main ho

[Verse 2]
Send her home to you, she don't wanna talk to you, her brain sore
Grand remarkable, I get dollars like Diego
Grand National, made it skrrt outside the bando
Two Glock 40s, they gon' call me Pluto Rambo
Finessin' a sport, bitch, hand me the fork, yeah, yeah
Top like New York, bitch giving intercourse, yeah, yeah
Drop-top Rolls-Royce like I ain't got a choice, yeah, yeah
Bag it up and sell it and go cop me some Screw
Twenty-six Pirellis, put on brand new shoes
Zero below, all this ice, catch the flu

[Verse 3]
I been tryna balance out the money with the dope
Too much drip, bitch gotta walk around with a float
Messy hoes know this bitch fucking on a GOAT
They know what come with that ice, Chane'-ne', Coco
I give bitches a lil' hype and then I adiós
I got the Midas touch, extended Rolls-Royce Ghost
When I ain't got them hitters 'round, you still can't approach
Don't make me have to up this motherfucker and let it go
Security for these bitches 'cause they ain't got no control
Don't make me have to up this motherfucker and let it go
We just wanna get real high-igh-igh

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