Shut Up

Knucklehead niggas with the base in the trunk

Bout to bubble like peroxide layin in a cut

Grown ass kids who don't want to grow up

But will have to do it soon cause our money's grown up

But even if I had 5 mil in the bank

I'm a still put a 5 dollar bill in the tank

What you thank? I'm a change cause I got a new Range

Fuck that ante up, man who in her got some change

And we lookin for Dame's with the tight stretch pants

In the big booty stance with no particular plans

They all like to party and so do me and my man's

So we picked a destination and head straight to the sands

That's the beach, for the fam that's at least once a week

Where we grab a couple freaks and show em the coral reef

You know what I mean, it's that sticky Cali Green

And it's out your wildest dreams

Listen to the beat and

Shut Up

(Shut Up in between each line)

Just keep your eyes on the road and

It's best you keep your mouth closed

Stop playin with your cell phone

Cause it's about to get thrown

Just keep your eyes on the road and

It's best to keep your mouth closed

And don't you think about touching my Stereo

Ay Yo Yo, Ay Yo Yo

Hop in my bucket baby, let's swing a episode

Hit the mall, trick it all, see how far yo credit go

Daddy with them sweaters low, with the Po in front of it

Phoney man of the year, who you think you fuckin with

Used to get the ugly chicks, now they all country thick

All they get is trips to Rosko's for them country grits

When I'm on my Southern shit, Might hit the Waffle House

Have em gone off the Kush, leave em with the cotton mouth

Bring em in swap em out, seat em in knock em down

See them twin woofers beatin hard time to quite down

Let me play the pilot now, listen to that sound

I was Holy Moly when Smoke was singin "Shop Around"

See my Collar? Pop it now, Neiman Marcus shopin now

Hair did, nails did, got you lookin proper now

Wow! you stylin on em, flyer than falcons on em

This is for my ladies who crazy and got a mouth on em

Shut Up!

Naw, there ain't another nigga flyer

My bitch so cold you could promote her on the flyer

These ugly chicks hatin when I'm rollin up beside her

Bendin them corners til the curb kiss the tires

These ho niggas liar's that's word to the Choir

I be with my nigga Dom in Leimert smokin fire

Where's my lighter? Mash the Kush in the Cypher

In that puff pass motion, but I ain't touchin yo saliva

You Juicy Mouthed, Chickens cluckin in them Hoochie outfits

Swift don't just dock the tracks with people we house with

Don't talk to me bout fashion dog you be wylin

You still think Coogi stylish, Who's ya stylist?

I'm usually loungin, puffin on some Ganja

Bumpin some Sinatra, Cuttin up some pasta

Snackin with my elbow on the table eatin Lobsters

Napkin over the collar in case I'm sloppy with the Salsa

Man Shut Up