Lyrics CES Cru – Whips
Text:
Verse 1 — Godemis:
I’m footloose, y’all be like «Damn»
Maintain with the right lane
Y’all ain’t do it like Strange, finna burn y’all when the light change
I’m ski skirtin’ gettin’ small and I’m in a straight line on my jackshift
Tryin’ shake haters on my playmaker blackin’ out in oncoming traffic
Just imagine if, the frame was a little bit lighter considering jag lift
I could prolly clear a row of buses on you motherfuckers for trying to nab with
Don’t get mad bitch, better jet son
Wanna bad bitch? Go and get one
I’m that quick, suck a fat dick
Wanna rap up, need to get done
Suck it, I enter I might rip
Burnin’ this rubber I might slip
Strugglin’ tryn’a get my grip
Doin’ 80 right over this white strips
With the pedalin’ motorin’ goin’ and so when I run it, then I’ma just fly out the whip
If you ain’t numero uno you ass and prolly don’t do it like I do it
Go
Tryin’ shake haters on my playmaker blackin’ out in oncoming traffic
Just imagine if, the frame was a little bit lighter considering jag lift
I could prolly clear a row of buses on you motherfuckers for trying to nab with
Don’t get mad bitch, better jet son
Wanna bad bitch? Go and get one
I’m that quick, suck a fat dick
Wanna rap up, need to get done
Suck it, I enter I might rip
Burnin’ this rubber I might slip
Strugglin’ tryn’a get my grip
Doin’ 80 right over this white strips
With the pedalin’ motorin’ goin’ and so when I run it, then I’ma just fly out the whip
If you ain’t numero uno you ass and prolly don’t do it like I do it
Go
Verse 2 — Ubiquitous:
Yo, if you can’t hang y’all that’s peace
See I B.Y.O.B
I bang y’all on beats, and I bet your backyard obese, bitch
Better believe I’m bombastic, bro know that my ball that big
Y’all fabric, fabricated in a fabergé egg sack shit
In a nutshell y’all cornballs, that’s corny nuts y’all done warmed up
Snatchin’ out on this bad traffic, I’m an asshole and my horn’s stuck
I switched lanes, like Rittz came
In the backseat with a stick mane
I’m an athlete, y’all are Mitch Bade and yo bitch came with a Ixnay
Uh, let me explain, got a sick brain, I was born nuts
Now, who’s the master? The Sho Nuff
Ask J, yo you know it ain’t no hold up (Ay!)
You don’t have to answer, the fact is you can’t survive the standard
Don’t act as if, I ain’t had your bitch
Holdin’ me close like I’m a tiny dancer (Ah)
Now back on the highway, countin’ these headlights, get ya head right
I stand by, y’all out the car on the side of the street gettin’ read ya rights
I see y’all stuck goin’ round and around and around the back
I secure the trophy, count ’em out, Beverly Hills down and out
Now, who’s the master? The Sho Nuff
Ask J, yo you know it ain’t no hold up (Ay!)
You don’t have to answer, the fact is you can’t survive the standard
Don’t act as if, I ain’t had your bitch
Holdin’ me close like I’m a tiny dancer (Ah)
Now back on the highway, countin’ these headlights, get ya head right
I stand by, y’all out the car on the side of the street gettin’ read ya rights
I see y’all stuck goin’ round and around and around the back
I secure the trophy, count ’em out, Beverly Hills down and out
