[Intro]
Uh (Uh)
Come on, aye, aye Boskeezy?
Aye, my, my, turn it up (burps)
Hey Boskeezy? Hey that shit right there, aye
(Talk to me weeplations), that shit
That's ebbin? Aye that shit smebbin, that shit ebbin?
That shit smebbin, ooh (ooh)
[Verse 1]
Four 15's showcasing to the max
Got my trunk-a-ma-jig free basing causing anxiety attacks
Pitch black limo tint BOOM BAP!
Fucked around and overheated my Zeus amp
My money, over hoes, fuck a hoe
These are the things that, uh, you need to know
Bust it open, split open the duct tape and the foil
Pour the rest, and get a pot and let 'em boil
Bullet proof vest, never confess, keep a bucket full of acid
1-800-888 zipper-zone-tastic!
Clientele, raise 'em high raise 'em low
Out on bail, everybody hit the floor
[Chorus]
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump, Bust
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump, Bust (ooh!)
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump, Bust
Dump, Bust, (BEOTCH!) Blast
[Verse 2]
Slurp sip, deep throat, shit I'm outta sight
I like to get my dick sucked in - broad daylight
Acting bad, on the soil acting tough
Break your ass down like a 12-gauge and call yo' bluff
Ignore a fool, that's what they holler
Snatch his bootsee ass up by the collar
Law enforcement agents got me and my dudes up under investigation
We hot like jalapenos
Man, how come niggas can't put their money together like Filipinos?
Life support, can you bring him back?
He was one of them enemies that tried to participate in Swiss cheesin' my clean-ass Cadillac
My Cadillac, my Pontiac I mean
My under-bucket hoopty parked on Magazine
[Chorus]
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump, Bust
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump, Bust (ooh!)
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump, Bust
Dump, Bust, (BEOTCH!) Blast
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump, Bust
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump, Bust (ooh!)
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump, Bust
Dump, Bust, (BEOTCH!) Blast
[Verse 3]
Check it out (check it out)
Third verse, let's begin let's be gone
I done served more water than, uh, Evian
Posted up like a thumbtack, on the boulevard serving dairy
Yola, ice cream, Ben and Jerry (Jer)
Been doing somethings, cigars and pinky rings
I'm a fixture up in this shit, like E-40 and the Click
Pepper all up under my box spring mattress, choppers on top of the fridge
Automatics in the kitchen cabinets, man I'll kill a motherfucker over my mathematics
Haters gon' hate, but they don't count, nigga hustle
The dope game runs on two things (what's that?) money and muscle
Do some Gotti, Fourth of July your party
Laid his "supposed-to-be so-called-hardest-nigga-in-your-town" ass down in front of everybody