2 Chainz

Hot Wings
(Hit-Boy) I'm the big homie now Don't forget that, I'm the big homie now I got my spunk, Louie Vuitton Truck in the front, what're you doin'? I look so good, don't call me Unc' She wanna suck, this ain't a Buick I pull it up, they wanna fuck We gon' get high, what're we doing? I got some Perc, I got a pound I got a crib, let's go get to it I got a semi, I got a Draco Word to my family, straight outta ClayCo Thought I was sweet, just like a Faygo But I had killers all on my payroll Watch how I move, just like it Rayon 64 Chainz, just like the crayons I bought a hat, the one with the A on it Pulled out my dick, told her to stay on it I had a paper tag on three of 'em I had the top dropped with the friends I told 'em deuce, one like Deion I say deuce, one like Deion I go Bruce Wayne on you peons Shit, I fuck with the Falcons, true (True) Letras de cancionesHad more sacks than a lineman I shoulda got a Heisman too, nigga, ha Shit, shoot 'cause they hikin' that, hike Check like a Nike hat, yup I got the Midas pack, uh Told the bih "Quiet, relax," uh I got my ho on the other line I'm not bipolar, but borderline I just might switch lanes, drop her off Go back, get fried That's all she want, hot wings Bitches fuckin' for some hot wings Bitches fuckin' for American Deli Bitches fuckin' for some eye cream She just want her twenty piece All flats with the lemon pepper I was the first one to put her in the first class Bitch, get your shit together Bitch ain't never flown before Bitch tried to come through security With some tennis shoes on, ho Take the shit off, bitch Real big, big boss music (Boss music) Big boss music Big boss, big, big boss music (Boss) That big boss music, big, big, big, big boss music That big boss music, big, big, big, big boss music Big boss music Big, big, big boss music Big boss music Big, big, big boss music Big boss music You better get used to it Ain't no falling off, niggas goin' straight up You better get used to it I need a raise, I ain't taking paycuts You better get used to it 100 for a verse, 100 for a show You better get used to it Every ten a mill', on the low I'm all about the bag, no need to brag Ring cost a Jag, dreads to the back like a shag Smoke you like SIG in the mag I'm all over that They callin' me Flair They callin' me DiBiase My girl ballin, Taurasi 2 Chainz, time Versaci They don't sell 'em in Foot Locker Curve game on BluBlocker Southside with a F F stand for a few options Dealership, I don't do auctions Fuck clothes, I need a new closet My new watch is moonwalkin' This somethin' she don't do often Bitch ain't never flown before (Uh) Bitch tried to come through security With some tennis shoes on, ho Take the shit off, bitch Real big, big boss music (Yeah) Big boss music Big boss, big, big boss music (I'm the big homie now) That big boss music, big, big, big, big boss music (I'm the big homie) That big boss music, big, big, big, big boss music Big boss music Big, big, big boss music (Big, big) Big boss music Big, big, big boss music (I'm the big homie now) Big boss music (Yeah) I'm the big homie now, yeah I'm the big homie now From Letras Mania