wiz khalifa, big k.r.i.t., girl talk & smoke dza - no singles lyrics
[chorus: wiz khalifa & smoke dza]
cruisin’ down the street in my ’64 (uh)
blowin’ kush smoke out the window (right)
pockets full of hundreds, no singles (uh)
pockets full of hundreds, no singles
cruisin’ down the street in my ’64 (right)
cruisin’ down the street in my ’64 (uh)
cruisin’ down the street in my ’64
pockets full of hundreds, no singles
[verse 1: smoke dza]
my pen way sharper than a sword
keep your cool, don’t make me pull a cord, my lord
was in the trap, see the cracks in the decor
still paint chips droppin’ on the floor, my lord, uh
god bless ya
smooth like drexler
mind state trained to move itself like tesla (uh)
crime rate boostin’
chicks takin’ trips, troopin’
profited from them trips to houston (really)
ged, gettin’ every dollar
countin’ stacks, either that or get to bouncin’ like impalas (uh)
have them jack boys all up on your collar
and twenty+five’s the new numbers for lows, i’ll holler
[chorus: wiz khalifa & smoke dza]
cruisin’ down the street in my ’64
blowin’ kush smoke out the window (hahaha)
pockets full of hundreds, no singles (yeah, yup)
pockets full of hundreds, no singles
cruisin’ down the street in my ’64 (right)
cruisin’ down the street in my ’64 (uh)
cruisin’ down the street in my ’64
pockets full of hundreds, no singles
[verse 2: big k.r.i.t.]
i was whippin’ in the kitchen, whipped it on the corner
i was workin’ on the foreign, whipped it ’til the mornin’, you was snorin’
pushin’ on some b+ttons, turnin’ nothin’ into somethin’
it was lint up in my wallet, now these pockets super lumpy
breakin’ bread with my partners
whippin’ on some choppers
stick my arm out the window just to shine on these boppers
just to shine on these b+tches, recline on these hoes
when your wrist game froze, tell ’em anything goes
gutter bass with the treble, mix the highs with low
woodgrain on the dash, reppin’ wires with vogues
pop trunk for the show, inside, it glow
chrome grill and the women whip wide and slow, hold up
[chorus: wiz khalifa]
cruisin’ down the street in my ’64
blowin’— blowin’ kush smoke out the window
pockets full of hundreds, no singles
pockets— pockets full of hundreds, no singles
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