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Three Loco
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Paranoid
I pull up paranoid on the bard I'm pullin up so hard, and I'm sippin on that bard It's that drank And my pocket's got a fat back. And my pocket's got a fat, and my pocket's got a fat band
When I step right, stay out my sight. Leanin' at the light, with the burner, clutch tight. A tight ass fade cover up Versace braids Neon lights, fifty grand on the razor blade Cut so precise, plus it cuts on the white Never had a wife, but if I did, perfect height (5'3') Perfect time piece, maybe Rolex on the wrist Baby blue barrettes, part a spoiler with the kit Call her like a kitten, bitch I'm callin like a snail Engine V-12, gas supreme, I'm at the shell Shell-toed Adidas, maybe grand here like Fila's Haters can't see us, lay 'em flat like tortillas
I pull up paranoid on the bard I'm pullin up so hard, and I'm sippin on that bard It's that drank And my pocket's got a fat back And my pocket's got a fat, and my pocket's got a fat band
I pull up paranoid on the bard I'm pullin up so hard, and I'm sippin on that bard It's that drank And my pocket's got a fat back And my pocket's got a fat, and my pocket's got a fat band
Pocket full of bank, Valerian cash in the tank Smugglin' snuggies 'cross the states Illegal, El Salvadorian Yeah You'll believe it when you see me open the doors on the Porsche Dalorian (Wassup?) Born again Bermuda, Bahamas In flower pajamas Ill slap bitch your armpits You knew I was in Menudo In the '82 Pujo, I'm bonin' your culo Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Slap my balls on your dad's desk And be like, 'Whatcha gon' do about this? Nothing.' You a bitch, they attach to my fists When I slap your mom in the dick and shit (what?!)
I pull up paranoid on the bard I'm pullin up so hard, and I'm sippin on that bard It's that drank And my pocket's got a fat back And my pocket's got a fat, and my pocket's got a fat band
I pull up paranoid on the bard I'm pullin up so hard, and I'm sippin on that bard It's that drank And my pocket's got a fat back And my pocket's got a fat, and my pocket's got a fat band
From the head, to the toes, to the soul that they don't got All they care about is the next Patron shot These fake rappers want what Al Capone got 'Til they on the street leakin', with they back to the dome shop Teflon don, shit, you Zac Efron, stepped on, by this fat kid that gets slept on Suck yo mama dry, suck yo mama dry You're jealous 'cause I exhale at everything I try I'm outlandish I'll even speak Spanish, like, 'Mí Casa, Su Casa, viva la rasa, I'm a reggae-ton Rasta, La Bamba, La Bamba, mi bilar samba, bye bye Simba.' 3-D Ninja, me eat ginger, and wasabi, oh my casé, Kimosabi
I pull up paranoid on the bard I'm pullin up so hard, and I'm sippin on that bard It's that drank And my pocket's got a fat back And my pocket's got a fat, and my pocket's got a fat band
I pull up paranoid on the bard I'm pullin up so hard, and I'm sippin on that bard It's that drank And my pocket's got a fat back And my pocket's got a fat, and my pocket's got a fat band
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