This one is for the boys with the booming system
Top down, AC with the cooler system
When he come up in the club, he be blazin’ up
Got stacks on deck like he savin’ up
And he ill, he real, he might gotta deal
He pop bottles and he got the right kind of build
He cold, he dope, he might sell Coke
He always in the air, but he never fly coach
He a motherfuckin’ trip, trip, sailor of the ship, ship
When he make it drip, drip kiss him on the lip, lip
That’s the kind of dude I was lookin’ for
And yes you’ll get slapped if you’re lookin’ hoe

Monke

Oh hey
I was just boutta go to bed
I know we couldn’t skype tonight
But that’s alright

Goodnight girl
I’ll see you tomorrow

(Falls and fucking dies)

Monke

Monke

E

I’m a basic broke bitch