[talking:] 

Yeah, y'all see us looking good mayn 

Hand on the wood grain, 4's yeah 

We still tipping baby, yeah 



[Kyleon:] 

I'm coming down in my slab, 84's on Perelli's 

Candy paint buck seats, I call it peanut butter jelly 

Pouring up the purple, blowing on some'ing smelly 

In a button drop the top, and put the dropper on the belly 

Hand on my wood, same thang on my dash 

Got the pop trunk glowing, lights say I'm having cash 

I'm rolling on glass, paint dripping red wine 

Big grill with a woman, the fifth wheel on behind 

I'm flipping through your town, higher than a cooter brown 

Got some'ing on my lap, that'll make a hater move around 

I'm doing bout a buck-o-five, on the highway 

Bad yellow bone bitch, sitting sideways 

I'm smoking like Day-Day, on Friday 

Nothing less than a slab, parked in my driveway hey 



[Hook:] 

I got them swangas on my Lac, I'm taking off the ceiling 

Candy paint butter, fifth wheel and the grilling 

Sipping drank, blowing kush I'm chilling 

Strap in my lap, if you thinking bout stealing 



[Kyleon:] 

Dead End South Park, my hood's so legendary 

R.I.P. Fat Pat and H.A.W.K., that's so necessary 

The first hood, to ever bump Screw music 

So if it wasn't for us, you boys wouldn't of knew shit 

I'll show you how to do this, 4's and the vogues 

Looking like a Phantom Rolls, as I'm closing my do's 

Suicide-suicide, like I'm killing myself 

Damn Killa your shit clean, yeah I'm feeling myself 

I got a bad chick with me, she Black and Italian 

Pretty eyes thick thighs, I call her my black stallion 

Got my chain and medallion, mo' pieces than a hippie 

I done seen a few boys, but ain't none fucking with me 

Uh no sir, I'm in them streets like them yellow lines 

Stacked up like some pancakes, I keep me a yellow dime 



[Hook] 



[talking:] 

Purple Punch nigga, hey Storm 

You swanging the slab, a lil' bit too hard mayn 

You damn near spilled, this hundred dollar cup 

On my thousand dollar jeans mayn