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Correct Fat Albert Lyrics
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Correct Fat Albert
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I got stars in the roof of my car, girl Recognize where you are, girl Jet Life this a stoner's world Lowride like my OG's, who wore them Jheri curls Circa 85's Now my Daytons spin same time I roll around Talk my shit a lil bit 'cause I worked hard Two laps in the parking lot show my shit off Bad bitches please tell them haters stay off my dick Set bubble like a coffee pot Them niggas talking so much but what are they talking 'bout Coupe interior brown leather the stiching, blue berry muffin They know I'm finna come up with something Rap hustling a lil bit like pack running Making stacks from it Racks like where we put the hunting guns at Black on a Phantom White on a Ghost Suede Adidas Campus Stepping on your throat, never lettin' go Blew a pound and they told you "go outside to smoke" It's Lil Tunechi from New Orleans, Lord With the chauffeur and the car with the two R's, Lord Lived next door to Jennie that went to Beauregard She broke my virginity and I love her for it Friends turn into frenemies and they've come and gone Cut the check or we gon' cut your fucking bungee cord Make these bitches jump for joy, make 'em fuck my boys If they ain't a freakazoid then they just annoying This for the smokers and the real ones Pussies get the dildo, I get the deal done Back like I left something, Weezy F something Bad bitch 'bout to swallow all my stress for me Bad bitch stop and poppin' like Steph Curry Rich nigga laughin' at his bills like Bill Murray Hot potato on the nose of the hand gun Outchea dodging handcuffs like a Ram truck Out here looking handsome, fucking dancers Tryna see my mansions, get expansions Tryna see my homeboys in they own toys Kush got my eyes looking like Chong Yoing Don't know no better Dick got the bitch walking like Uncle Fester And your homie talk aloud 'bout what he gon' do You know your homie ain't your homie 'til he bleed on you You know you never know you love her 'til she cheat on you You know you never know your brother 'til he dethrone you You know Lil Tunechi been a soldier since T-R-U Fuck a heated arguing, we let the heat argue P-I-R-U brazy like glue S-Q-U-A-D wavy like the sea And Lil-T just told me to knock the nigga's brain out I got a chopper I bet I can shoot a plane down Pussy ass niggas looking for a way out I tape some kilos to her, put her on a Greyhound Coming down from cloud 9 like a raindrop I'm 'bout to buy a ring of the size of a ring pop I got some bitches in bikinis like Baywatch And we in Carrollton in a Chinese kitchen gettin' take out Hollygrove Tune Ya dig, Carrollton Heist nigga Spitta, fuck with me Carrollton Tunechi I'm gone
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