up in the club with front’in niggas; fake jewels, fake tools, look’in like straight fools
i’m straight t-shirt and jeans with some running shoes
they front’in on me like an Outkast
cause my jeans don’t sag down past my ass
and i ain’t never lived in no trap
and they sick cause big booty dimes keep dance’in in my lap
while they deal’in with a crew of chickens
i’m surrounded by stallions that’s down for Supa lick’in
later on call me Jason Voorhees cause i’ma straight stick ‘em
back seat of my slab, we swing episodes
they call me the cement man cause i cum in heavy loads
i love ‘em thick thighed with legs bowed
and some wide ass hips so I can hit it and hold
then I flip ‘em over and they let me fold
their legs behind their ears call it origami
i leave sheets and weaves in shambles like a tsunami
got that pink all red like they turned commie
they call a nigga a week later want’in more Supa salami
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