[Produced by DJ Preservation]

[Verse 1]

85 on 95, blasting shit from '94, flooring it

Pimp interior decoring it

Fuzzy dice, plus we nice

And my peoples' cousin in the backseat with the custom ice

Breaking dutches with the butterknife

We busted in the club like we Busta's gang

Bust a gang of dudes looking at us

But you's Topanga from Boy Meets World

Animated like manga, then boy meets girl

I caught his eye as if he threw his retina

Dress style regular, smile that beckoned ya

Kicked it like you Posh Spice and David Beckham bend ya

Wind around the conversation, I could get into ya

Said his pops from India, moms was Dominican

First generational, grandma New Guinean

Brought a Trini girl up in the club with him but then again

She acting like a whore, dancing dirty, grinding many men

Henny in her, Fendi on her

They spending on her, buying her drinks comma

I said, "You know they only coming on to her

Cause later they'll be cumming on her"

He's loving the persona

They started playing 80's Madonna

Now I don't give a fuck about this club

Do the white girl two-step to "Borderline" or "Burning Up"

I turn on the charm now

He's putting his arm 'round

We calm down, dancing slower to DeBarge now

[Interlude]

[Verse 2]

He whispers that he got the Escalade out front

I wanna be out but chill, pause

For real, I might think about it, think about it

And for the first time, peeped his neck gleaming

Like he's got a rink about it

The shit don't matter

Looked at his Timbs jacked up like, eh, something don't stack up

I must adjourn to the restroom; man, I'll return soon

Motioned to my people, let's move

Guess who stepped up blocking my path?

All puffed up rocking a glass back and forth

Neck moving like she doing the snake

Yvette nameplate shifting like she boosting the brakes

Now hold up -- bitch is freaking the fuck out

If she don't stop, man, she gon' get snuffed out

I don't use the word usually, bitch -- fine

But it's brutally honest that I'm using it this time

And now I'm standing with my hand in the Atlas pose

Perfectly still, smirk on my grill

She thinks I'm by myself

But I will murder death kill her if she touch me

Visions of this whole club rushing me

Homegirl stand back, ready to thump

Niggas stay in back of her like, "That's the one!"

Awww shit, this whole party was a setup

I shoulda known, you shoulda known, we shoulda known better

But then-a she got her crew backing her up, shit

Attracting the public, chatting like they rapping on dub shit

I look to the right to the bar, saw my homie

Standing with the bottle, tucking it with a scarf

She caught my eye, nodded quick

Leaned back, right fist, uppercutted on the Trini bitch

And ducked down like I was running with Black Moon

Saw the Molotov fly by, we evacuated the back room

Oh Lordie, raced across the parking lot

Post-mortem or living, don't know what shorty got

Heart beating, we in the car speeding, sitting quiet

Tell my peoples like, "Yo, I think I'm bleeding"

Man, whatever

[Hook]

Fucking with niggas, you get set up

So dudes, know a sheisty bitch, man, you should dead her

Fuck all that wild shit, just pass me the liquor

Da na na na na, da na na na na

It goes, fucking with dudes, you get set up

So niggas, know a wild shorty, man, you should dead her

So fuck all that wild shit, just pass me the liquor

Da na na na na, da na na na na