I might just paint the Bentley mustard (skrr) I got rich, that's on my mother (yeah) Say she love you, still can't trust her (what, yeah, yeah) Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it (skrrt) But my frames, they Dior, I can't see, baby (I can't

Mad sounds in your ears, they make you get up and dance They make you get up Yeah they make you get up Ooh la la la, ooh la la la Ooh la la la ooh Mad sounds in your ears, they make you feel alright They bring you back to life Love buckles under the

Masivo (Watch out fi dis) (Watch out fi dis) Watch out fi dis, a di maddest lyrics Mash up di place put your hands up fi dis Yo mi nah miss numba 1 pon di list Di gal dem a twist waist line can't resist Watch out fi dis Zumba ke Ziggy Ziggy zumba ke

And the world's gonna know your name Standing in the Hall of Fame 'Cause you burn with the brightest flame And you'll be on the walls of the Hall of Fame Yeah, you can be the greatest, you can be the best You can be the King Kong bangin' on your chest

I know you had the time of your life I'll be countin' this shit all night Let's make a sex tape and put it on Netflix You know I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty See yeah I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty Yeah, uh-huh I smoked a

Put on my blue suede shoes And I boarded the plane Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues In the middle of the pouring rain W. C. Handy Won't you look down over me Yeah I got a first class ticket But I'm as blue as a girl can be

But right now I'm on this lake shore And I'm sittin' in the sun I'm sure it'll hit me When I walk through that door tonight Oh, lookie there, I've got a bite Yeah, I'm gonna miss her And I love to fish

Daddy's little psycho and mommy's little soldier I want to be a celebrity martyr Hurrah (bang bang), hurrah (bang bang) the hero of the hour Bang bang give me fame Shoot me up to entertain I am a semi-automatic lonely boy You're dead I'm well fed Give me

Ain't no tellin' Envelopes comin' in the mail, let her open 'em Hopin' for a check again, ain't no tellin' Yeah, she invite me to the telly, keep the blade with me When I go to check a bitch, ain't no tellin' Yeah, police comin' 'round lookin' for some

Ayo, ayo, ayo Ain't nothing like some good old ghetto, ghetto Ain't nothing like some good old ghetto Yeah, let me holla at you real quick I'm gonna bring y'all back to the good old, good old days You feel me? Some of that Good old, good old, good old