On Tour

[Hook] They turn the lights down, and open the curtains All the fans stand up and they start roaring Go Tity Boi, go go Tity Boi Go Tity Boi, go go Tity Boi [Verse 1] You ain’t got no money take your broke ass home I’m on the cocaine zone, four cellphones We make the chicken fight, like Roy Jones The roof know magic, poof, be gone New suit own with the valet with the duffel [?] with a chauffeur and you barely getting over If you see me pumping gas, take a picture, it’s a poster Living la vida loca Reloader, clip like a soldier, clique full of soldiers Front line, untie you, put my Pradas on your sofa I’m supposed to pose, all my clothes is vocal Loud ass jacket, stupid belt buckles Brand new pair of boots, I spent two Gs on em And the boots got two Gs on em I crunk your bitch up I had no cheese on me Cause I crumpled my cup up with no keys on me It’s big money over here nigga Got the Tommy gun and the Tommy Hilfiger Tell that bitch to come holler at a real nigga When she see a nigga, I got so much swag it’s OD a nigga It’s dripping all over my motherfucking pinion nigga But this a process, the thought process I dress like I’m in a motherfucking contest Deuce Hook