Loco Wit The Cake

[Hook] Spent thirty in the mall Goin' loco wit the cake Five cars sitting tall Goin' loco wit the cake Ten on some Cali' bud Goin' loco wit the cake Then I hit the strip club Goin' loco wit the cake Glittered up my wrist Goin' loco wit the cake Went and Guccied up my bitch Goin' loco wit the cake Repping five with the pimps Goin' loco wit the cake I put on my whole team Goin' loco wit the cake [Verse 1] Aye You don't want to start a food fight Get your attitude right Before I put this cake all in your face and have your crew like Who that is? Ace Hood You ain't know that's Ace Hood? Ask around in every project they say that boy face good Put the Range Rover on them 24's I skate good Especially with the paper ice, all over my Ace Hood Chain, fuck a dummy I need hoes to educate me Good brain! Take the package up the temple come back home and get, paid! Seven days up out the week a nigga gotta get, paid! Quit your hating, get on your job, and ho you can get, paid! Like Ace, like who? Like me nigga That's why every bitch you trying to fuck like me nigga [Hook] [Verse 2] I work them pots like it's chemistry Got a F in chemistry Took the white and turned it green Now that's what I call chemistry That's what I call, Enterprise Call my work, The Enterprise Twenty junkies beaming up to Scotty in my Enterprise Smoking in my spaceship, floatin' through the galaxy They calling me a shooting star, leave hoes off through your calvery Gangstas, goons, and killers only niggas on my salary They all got charges pending Murder, burglaries, and batteries Niggas trying to battle me, end up finding they tragedy Laided out on the floor and breathing fast and looking up at me (Up at me) Play me in your Chevy when you scrambling Ruthless than a motherfucker with hundred grand on me [Hook] [Verse 3] Aye You can call me Mister Cash Flow Money out the asshole Thugging getting paper, what you think that Louis bag ho? Pull up in that stupid whip Hundred for the stupid wrist Stupid this, stupid that, loco with the money bag Lamborghini Murcielag', girl you got to stupid that Gucci this, Louis that, riding with them paper tags And my bitch she bad as hell, Juicy, Louis, Gucci bag All my niggas love to swag, Bentleys, Phantoms back to back Twenty grand I'll show you going low and tell them holla back Pain you a dummy, blow about thirty on a whip and then Swing on them 30's I drop the top on them verties Switch lanes, on them haters, I'm throwing paper to make them spend [Hook]