juicy j - show out (remix) lyrics
[hook x4: young jeezy]
everytime i go out, you know i gotta show out
[verse 1: pimp c]
light green, northern lights, gettin’ sucked into midnight
blue jag, white range, candy car, kryptonite
i be proin’, i keep these b-tches hoeing
want a date? straight-up pimp
if you want some, you can find me in the h-town
bobby by the pound, whitney by the ki
and b-tch, my d-ck was never free
didn’t know if i wanted to rap or sell c0ke
cause n-ggas like me ain’t never broke
i traded in my pyrex for a shiny rolex
the b-tches want s-x, but all i’m f-ckin’ with is checks
i’m smokin’ out, pouring up, whippin’ my deville
took out the air bag, put in a wood wheel
[hook]
[verse 2: juicy j]
i’ve got rocks in my watch, i’ve got mud in my sprite
i’m ridin’ low key, and i’m high as a kite
juicy that n-gga, you n-ggas gon’ learn
this ice on my neck gave me freezer burn
i’m not goin’ broke like mc hammer
still blowin’ money like birthday candles
your b-tch in my whip and she’s gone off the mollies
my eyes be chinese and my doors know karate
b-tch, i’m so rich and you know what i like
some drugs, couple of b-tches that dyk-
one of them hoes that i’m f-ckin’ just might be your wife
take her then give her this pipe, rollin’ papers, we blazin’ up
take a chick out shopping, she wanna f-ck
wanna speak to me? you don’t make enough
get your money right, stop saving these sl-ts
hit single and a world tour, f-ck you mean?
that’s more cream
in a hotel, on the top floor gettin’ more head than oil sheen
n-gga feelin’ like rambo, got a fully automatic in my lambo’
rich n-gga still country like a banjo
shoot a n-gga ’til i run out of ammo
and i’ve got an r&b chick ’bout to get f-cked silly
i’m trippy, she trippy, showtime, let’s get it
white girls with a -ss fat like skinnies
group s-x on tour, every night a new city
in the club with my louis bag
you know that b-tch got dope in it
my credit card like silkk the shocker
black card with no limit
[hook]
[verse 3: t.i.]
you know, all the time i’m on the grind
sucker, better get f-ck sh-t off your mind
the .45 gon’ keep f-ck boys in line
i run up on ’em, tell ’em “separate yours from mine”
they way behind and i’m way ahead
ridin’ with a b-tch gettin’ major head
she like: “d-mn, homeboy, we ain’t made it yet?”
i’m like: “not if you ain’t swallowed these babies yet”
okay, everywhere that i go out, i’m walkin’ in and i show out
and man, all the dough that i throw out
is sure to turn these lil’ hoes out
these b-tches already knowin’ that everywhere that i’m goin’
i’m in a fast car that cost a quarter-mill
and i’m ridin’ it like it’s stolen
hustle gang, gangrene, in god we trust
anybody gettin’ money is down with us
“f-ck you” to the n-gga who was talkin’ tough
but not because you talkin’, cause you broke as f-ck
that sh-t contagious, they probably hatin’
i shop at neimans, you shop at macy’s
yo j’s dirty, i paid 30
for a one-way trip on a plane thursday
hope lames heard me, got cash in hand
50 grand all wrapped in elastic bands
n-gga wanna be the man, i’m past the man
f-ck with me, they will never see your -ss again
i’ll turn your -ss to a rocket, to the moon you go
like some sh-t that you done seen on cartoons before
you can’t hide nowhere my goons won’t go
turnt up last night, finna do it once more, aye
[outro: young jeezy]
everytime i go out, you know i gotta show out
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