Rich Boy
Rich Boy - What It Do lyrics
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(feat. Cutty, Sean Paul) [Lil' Jon] Hey! Hey! Rich Boy... Lil' Jon (what's up Polow?) It's a lot of motherfuckin' bad bitches in this motherfucker (uh-huh) I think I'mma walk over to one of them motherfuckers and tell 'em this [Chorus - Sean Paul & Cutty] What it do? What it be like? (Can I get ya telephone number baby?) What it do? What it be like? (Can I get ya telephone number girl?) What it do? What it be like? (Can I get ya telephone number baby?) (Picture you naked in the back of my Chevy) [Verse 1 - Rich Boy] The cars, the clothes, the hoes, I know that That purp, that kush, that dro, we blow that we popp-in', rollin', drinkin', smokin' Puffin', passin' now, we chokin' The pa-parazzi, snap, and shoot me The Prada, the Louis, the Fendi, and the Gucci The diamonds so big she tell a nigga "look daddy" A nigga so jealous that he don't wanna look at me Nigga look at me (why ya knockin'?) We ballin' and shoppin' them bottles poppin' The rims, the paint, the ride, so fly The twen-ty eights, be sit-tin' high The lows, the highs, the mids, the tweeters Bang-in' hard, you hear, my speakers (Boom boom boom boom) the trunk be knockin' The bit-ches strip-pin', lean-in' rockin' [Chorus 2 - Sean Paul & (Cutty)] What it do? What it be like? (Can I get ya telephone number baby?) What it do? What it be like? (Can I get ya telephone number girl?) What it do? What it be like? (Can I get ya telephone number baby?) (Picture you naked in the back of my Bentley) [Verse 2 - Rich Boy] We ball, we shine, we all, be grindin' My chain, my rang, you see, the diamonds We leanin', sip-pin', drankin', pourin' Prometh-azine, that pur-ple ocean So what it do, ya know, ya boy Ya know, I got-ta keep, that toy So pass the K, I make, 'em feel me These nig-gas hat-in', tryin' to kill me The seats in the ride like peanut butter and jelly The pedal to the flo', I'm bossin' in the Chevy Ooh, what it be like baby? Show me Some hoes wanna blow me but they, don't even know me My jewel-ry sick, it's so, contagious You see, my wrist, the shit, outrageous Mon-te Carlos, and Impalas Mon-ey, rub-berbands and dollars [Chorus 3 - Sean Paul & Cutty] What it do? What it be like? (Can I get ya telephone number baby?) What it do? What it be like? (Can I get ya telephone number girl?) What it do? What it be like? (Can I get ya telephone number baby?) (Meant to be naked, we were meant to be naked)