(Left, right, left, right, left, right, right, right) Know what your place is? Twenty million dollars in a car Girl, tie your hair up if you wanna be a star Spread your legs You could be famous Thirty million people want a shot How much would it take for

Fuck it up girl, go on, fuck it up, girl Go on, fuck it up, girl, go on, fuck it up, girl You're with your girlfriends, I'm with my niggas I know we drunk talking shit, but that's my nigga Fifty inch weave but you bought it so it's yours hair Drop it to

I remember those songs on the radio The jasmine, the wind in your hair Summer and smoke, diamonds and dust Go where you will, do what you must The promise was made, your word was enough We had dreams, visions and plans Into the night, out of our hands

Come together, yeah Come together, right now Here come old flat top He come groovin' up slowly He got joo joo eyeballs He one holy roller He got hair down to his knee Got to be a joker

Toy-like people make me boy-like I sink myself in hair upon my lover I seen you go down to a cold mirror It was never clearer in my error You click a shine upon your forehead or Check it by the signs in the corridor You light my ways through the club

When was the last time you did something for the first time? Maybe something new is what you're needing Like a real life, let your hair down, feel alive You say you never danced to a dashboard singin' R.E.M. under summer stars Never leaned back on a jet

I get my party on (party onnnnn) We gonna party til the break of dawnnn Oh oh ohhhhhhhhh hooooo I get my party on (thats right) Ya ya man, I just got my hair braided, Car waxed, put on my player face, It's 12 o clock, its time to get it on Hey yo chaka

When was the last time you did something for the first time? Maybe something new is what you're needing Like a real life, let your hair down, feel alive You say you never danced to a dashboard singin' R.E.M. under summer stars Never leaned back on a jet

I got my top down on my whip Her hair blowing in the wind I got my shades on cause I'm bent She roll it up with no stem I got my Louis bags duffled up Fuck with the squad and throw it up I got my top down, speakers bump See me when I pull it up Gucci bag

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a