Nah, Ion want that
Nah I want a purp.
What? Naw, not a Beamer
I did that already, red is crazy
I want the white, want a white, I want a white
Blue? Nah
That's just not right...
I want a white, droptop two door Benz
With a custom interior, 22 inch rims
I want auto parking, auto brakes
I want an automatic starter with a jet off take
I want satellite radio, internet, phone
Know I gotta talk to my nigga when I'm on the road
That's what I want, that's what I want
That's what I want, that's what I want
Rem really rappin', these broads just yappin'
I press a chick quick like "bitch what happened?"
I'll never see these hoes in the trap
And if you think I'm throwin' in subliminals, bitch catch
Got a gun charge cause I'm a lil' ratchet
And all you hoes dyin' to be me get a casket
Bandana in your back pocket just fashion
When I do it, I'm reppin' my gang, I'm flaggin'
BP, Exxon, Shell, who gassed 'em?
Bitches scared to breathe in my presence, they're gaspin'
They can't eat when I'm around, stomach's touchin' backs and
I'ma call it Remadan, yeah they fastin'
Y'all done signal lights just for flashin'
Ms. Martin in the Aston, yeah ask 'em
I'm laughin', and I don't want burgundy
Brown, blue or black, bitch
I ain't even gotta try hard, these hoes diarrhea
Their shit watery, get the fuck out of here
Niggas like "Rem, please, you gotta drop quick"
I'm like, "Easy, hoes can't even fuck with my old shit"
I'm talkin' rhymes that I spit six years ago
They still listenin', nah but y'all don't hear me though
These chicks comedy, yeah they Mike Epps
I'm a fucking horror movie and they're scared to death
Not for nothin', bitches frontin', they don't want me to come back
The fans is kinda smart and they can see that you dumb wack
My swag, tried to jack it, but couldn't quite catch it
Your flow is mediocre, your whole style plastic
This ain't just rap, bitch, I don't give a fuck
See it could go down, mothafucka what's up?
What's good, what's hood, what's really, what's Gucci?
What's Farragamo, what's Prada, what's Pucci?