Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
That Mexican OT
That Mexican OT
Vocals
Homer
Homer
Vocals
Cory Mo
Cory Mo
Programming
Mone
Mone
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
VIRGIL GAZCA
VIRGIL GAZCA
Songwriter
C. Moore
C. Moore
Songwriter
Homer Ortiz, III
Homer Ortiz, III
Songwriter
Ramon Albarado Jr.
Ramon Albarado Jr.
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Cory Mo
Cory Mo
Producer
Caleb C4 Albarado
Caleb C4 Albarado
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

(Cory Mo) It's been a long time, but Homer Pimpson back again And ain't shit changed, bitch, it's still kick door 'til the end I got the juice, I got the flavor, yes, I'm takin' your bitch I watch my bitches 69, then I tell 'em to switch Off the cranium, I'm bangin' shit, I'm on my Dirty Bay baby shit I'm comin' down, I'm swingin' it, kick door music, they playin' it Oh, yes, they know what it is, but had to show 'em what it was We got it out the mud and now the world knows us I put the Bay up on my back, then run a hundred laps Swingin' through Be Careful Texas in a blue and yellow 'Lac I put the Bay up on my back, then run a hundred laps Swingin' through Be Careful Texas in a blue and yellow 'Lac Friends, friends, friends or these scandalous hoes? Or is it my homies tryna hate me on the down low? Is it my friends, friends, friends, friends or these scandalous hoes? Or is it my homie tryna hate me on the down low? I get more green than Promethazine More pussy than you ever seen The 45 in my triple-beam I bag the work, then I serve them fiends A livin' legend just like the Bing You got a problem, step in the ring I'm runnin' the game like Don King Bow down and kiss the ring You talkin' shit, need Listerine My backup four magazines White paint, inside cream Representing that big spring So hot, my body steam Swingin' slow in my machine My game superb, my gas supreme Double cup full of that lean I could see through you just like a screen Can't nobody fuck with my team Creased up in blue jeans You look nice, my mug mean My hands dirty, my car clean Pressure point, infrared beam I cock it back and shoot, I'm all about my loot We ballin', baby, not shootin' hoops Friends, friends, friends or these scandalous hoes? Or is it my homies tryna hate me on the down low? Is it my friends, friends, friends, friends or these scandalous hoes? Or is it my homie tryna hate me on the down low? I got a partner named Scales, but we call him Skeleton Inside my body, it's Versace, but I got some Gucci skin I'm from Texas where we put some elbows on electric Benz Fuck your love and fuck your friends, I'm strictly 'bout my dividends My Texas tea is very bubbly, attitude ugly Miss me with that friendly shit, lil' boy, I ain't your buddy Grape jelly on the outside and it's peanut butter cutting Take a stroll through the hood, pop trunk, got me lookin' lovely Big Pineapple with some Wockhardt I'm from Be Careful Bay House, Bay City all-star, uh Matte black on my ARP, it look like it was Haitian Got killers in the system, and they think they on vacation Push up to my crib, my bitch think I'm inside a spaceship Throw my Cadillac Escalade keys on my PlayStation We done buttered up Def Jam, upgraded to a TEC now Rock out at the show, then blow it up like it's a meth lab, uh Know what I'm sayin'? Chopper sprayin' Bodies layin' Mamas cryin' Can't walk outside without somebody ass dyin' Friends, friends, friends or these scandalous hoes? Or is it my homies tryna hate me on the down low? Is it my friends, friends, friends, friends or these scandalous hoes? Or is it my homie tryna hate me on the down low?
Writer(s): Cory Moore, Virgil Gazca Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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