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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tyler Thomas
Tyler Thomas
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tyler Thomas
Tyler Thomas
Songwriter
Bryan Kitching
Bryan Kitching
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bryan Kitching
Bryan Kitching
Producer
J.LBS
J.LBS
Producer

Lyrics

Press my shirt not the issue Brand new kicks my jiu-jitsu You look good so I whistle Just like Ms. July issue Bust my move when you shake it I wish we could be naked Fuck you good, you could take it I missed you too, can I tape it? I recline while you work it Jump through hoops like a circus Don't just look at the surface You can't tell me it was perfect I like my grapes on the pinot I feel like I'm Pacino We like drugs, no placebos Big ass shades like I'm Ceelo Fresh, yes, blessed (Uh, shit) Niggas won best dressed Eyes need visine, fine lil thing I just met her at the fashion show She just here to visit international Said she wanna kick it 'til we have to go So I met her back home for the after show I mean, I have to know, I mean Fuck a love song, I'm 'bout to hit Tell me, how nasty can you get? Won't you say something good so the hair on my neck could lift? I don't speak French, so start with that sexy shit Well, je m'appelle, I'ma tell Whistle like Juelz, and I'm cleaner than Purell Fashion by Pharrell, sense of humor on Chappelle Ziggy with the L, pocket Biggy, can you tell? So wish me well I walk up first like I know you Bring you you that drink that I owe I can't think of who was before you She grabbed my hand, said let me show you She could break it on down, break it on down Break it on down right now Break it on down, break it on down Break it on down right now, right now She could break it on down, break it on down Break it on down right now, right now She could break it on down, break it on down Hit her with that beat, J Pounds Hopped out the whip with a doobie on lip, gettin' lit, gettin' right 'Cause I'm headed to the city for the night Hit the mall, cop somethin', bro I got to look right Little sole of my sneaks gon' give me a lil height Man, I'm groovy T, man, tell 'em what you be on That's cold nigga, nah that's Freon That's neon? Nah, thats 3M That's me on MCM Know she gotta giggle at that, because she wiggle on a nigga Wake me up from a nap and go down I'm a dog with a couple more fleas Wonder why them bitches want to have me on a short leash So what you wanna do? Wanna be bra-less, fur carpet crawlin'? Wanna fuck me at the crib or the office? And if you bold, we can do it in your boss's I walk up first like I know you Bring you you that drink that I owe I can't think of who was before you She grabbed my hand, said let me show you She could break it on down, break it on down Break it on down right now Break it on down, break it on down Break it on down right now, right now She could break it on down, break it on down Break it on down right now, right now She could break it on down, break it on down Hit her with that beat, J Pounds
Writer(s): Tyler Thomas Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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