[Chorus: Free Murda] 

Shorts with the slippers on, white tee, fitted on 

Shorts with the slippers on, white tee, fitted on 

Shorts with the slippers on, white tee, fitted on 

White tee, fitted on, shorts with the slippers on 



[Free Murda:] 

Low shorts, slippers on my feet, gold diggers wanna creep 

Nah, this nigga don't wanna be 

One head in the Chevy, man, I don't want your teeth 

Next week I'm vegetarian, I don't wanna 'meat' 

Cuban on my neck, Jesus is the piece 

Keep it moving, all that tech'll leave you resting in peace 

Rest in peace to the homey Jeff Row 

Mess with Free then that forty will blow 

Nigga already know, that I'm, the same ol' pimp 

Free, ain't nothing changed but my chips 

That's me, still getting brain from your chick 

Not just these dames, cuz these lames on my dick 

Me, Free Murda, shorts with the slippers on 

White tee, fitted on, Fort Greene, get it on 

Me, Free Murda, shorts with the slippers on 

White tee, fitted on, Fort Greene, get it on 



[Chorus x2] 



[Free Murda:] 

Dark is on my face, sparking up the haze 

Chalking up the space, once I departed from my waist 

Hand in my pocket, blonging off your braids 

Better tuck and roll like Blanca on the game 

Keep fronting, I'mma bang, lay a hand on this chain 

That nigga ain't crazy, Gnarls Barkley ain't your name 

Your know how that purp do, I'm around like a circle 

Have me higher than the pants, that's on Urkel 

Plad shorts sagging, down to my slippers 

Bad whores bragging, how they unzipped the zipper 

She want me to whip her, and pull her g-string 

I love T-Pain, make kid fall in love with a stripper 

Sip bub in that liquor, until I feel saucey 

Hand on my forty, damn if it cost me 

What bail, nigga? Say, fuck jail, nigga 

Ain't doing time, I tell 'em, go to hell, nigga 



[Chorus x2] 



[Free Murda:] 

Look gangsta in my fitted cap, desert in my white tee 

Take and wont give it back, deaded or you might see 

Yourself out your slippers, take the soul from your body 

No help out to get ya, when I unload from that shotty 

Shorts, slippers, white tee, boss nigga, like me 

Get it popping in the hood, don't force a nigga like me 

Cuz he'll let one go, nigga, just to show ya team 

Ain't Young Dro, but that four'll make my shoulder lean 

Bagging up dirt, they don't even dig a smell 

Bagging up purp, you can weigh it on the Ricter Scale 

Force, let that chicken hail, cuz I let that chicken swell 

That be money, niggas funny cuz they missing sales 

My nig, what you grinning for, ain't no faggots here 

Diggin' up in them shorts, pockets all rabbit ears 

Think you leaving lavish here, like Yung Joc, call that dope boy magic there 

Dope boy, magic here... 



[Chorus x2]