CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Cabbage (Freestyle)
The booty in that muhf**ka cuh
On God, you had a target on 'em, n***a
That's blue club, n***a
Straight up, big booties in the produce aisle
On God, line two
Met a freaky lil' dish at the Slauson swap
She a artist with the tongue, mm, Jaw-squiat
I was flea market up, that cost a lot
Got a St. Louis, chickenhead, was top
I'm a sucker for cornrows and natural afros
Your b*t*h a bird, sink, bath, she pigeon-toed
Your b*t*h a bird, no salmonella on the pole
Try to get to lickin', I'm electric, she cha-cha slide on me
Ejecto seato, no for Smino, let her for my homie
Icon my n***a, no tuxedo, my air force one on me
b*t*h, I stay puffy like a Cheeto, God took his time on me
Twenty b*t*hes in the lobby, guess that's where I be
I be smokin' on dry weed, got me wakin' up late all groggy
I need some real thick like Ashanti, later roun'
I'll bill up, no Chauncey, huh
Or Sevyn Streeter, I take seventy streets to eat her
I'm not a big repeater
My name ain't Peter, but let me now if you see her
Only kids, I don't hang with the chi-chi-chi
I done p*ssed off the gang 'bout the sh*t, sh*t, sh*t
Quick to cut a n***a off like a sink
(n***a I'm havin' so much fun in this motherf**ker right now)
Gettin' cabbage, and all my b*t*hes nasty (My b*t*hes nasty)
I'm higher than your fashion (Dior)
And if they ask, I'm taxin'
You're broke, tragic, n***a, that's tragic
Tragic, tragic, tragic, haha
You know me
Young n***a just tapped in like a tap dance
We do this sh*t easy, man
We do this sh*t every day, any day, man
Listen, this is fun bruh, at this point
Man, I hope y'all motherf**kers enjoy y'all self
You know what I'm sayin'?
Hope y'all got your goddamn popcorn, Kool-Aid
Barbecue wings, whatever the f**k y'all do
Hope my n***as got something' rolled
My shawties got them a little wood or whatever, yeah
She already decided
It's above me now
Videos, homie, videos?
DVD, CDs, Master P, Charlie's Angels
Let's go, let's go, let's go
On God, you had a target on 'em, n***a
That's blue club, n***a
Straight up, big booties in the produce aisle
On God, line two
Met a freaky lil' dish at the Slauson swap
She a artist with the tongue, mm, Jaw-squiat
I was flea market up, that cost a lot
Got a St. Louis, chickenhead, was top
I'm a sucker for cornrows and natural afros
Your b*t*h a bird, sink, bath, she pigeon-toed
Your b*t*h a bird, no salmonella on the pole
Try to get to lickin', I'm electric, she cha-cha slide on me
Ejecto seato, no for Smino, let her for my homie
Icon my n***a, no tuxedo, my air force one on me
b*t*h, I stay puffy like a Cheeto, God took his time on me
Twenty b*t*hes in the lobby, guess that's where I be
I be smokin' on dry weed, got me wakin' up late all groggy
I need some real thick like Ashanti, later roun'
I'll bill up, no Chauncey, huh
Or Sevyn Streeter, I take seventy streets to eat her
I'm not a big repeater
My name ain't Peter, but let me now if you see her
Only kids, I don't hang with the chi-chi-chi
I done p*ssed off the gang 'bout the sh*t, sh*t, sh*t
Quick to cut a n***a off like a sink
(n***a I'm havin' so much fun in this motherf**ker right now)
Gettin' cabbage, and all my b*t*hes nasty (My b*t*hes nasty)
I'm higher than your fashion (Dior)
And if they ask, I'm taxin'
You're broke, tragic, n***a, that's tragic
Tragic, tragic, tragic, haha
You know me
Young n***a just tapped in like a tap dance
We do this sh*t easy, man
We do this sh*t every day, any day, man
Listen, this is fun bruh, at this point
Man, I hope y'all motherf**kers enjoy y'all self
You know what I'm sayin'?
Hope y'all got your goddamn popcorn, Kool-Aid
Barbecue wings, whatever the f**k y'all do
Hope my n***as got something' rolled
My shawties got them a little wood or whatever, yeah
She already decided
It's above me now
Videos, homie, videos?
DVD, CDs, Master P, Charlie's Angels
Let's go, let's go, let's go
