Текст на песента

Lamb'd up ride, 30 inch rims glide

6 feet off tha ground make it hard fa you ta see inside

Surround sound like a motion picture

aquafina rims got my ocean spinnas

Hit a button, car crank up

Notha button, do' lift up

People lookin, what tha fuck

What is that, a car or truck

Hit tha lot, drop tha top

Bitch jump in, late ta block

VIP done killed tha club, headed ta my otha spot

Mashin off 454, look like Im passin off

Rubba burnin, passin yawl

Rims damn near fallin off

Yo Gotti, hell naw I aint petty

So I wanna welcome my haters ta my 100 grand Chevy

(Chorus 2x)

Chevy ridin high boy (Mon E. G.)

My Chevy stay fly (Yo Gotti)

Got me and yo baby mama (Mon E. G.)

Sittin off in tha sky (Yo Gotti)

Mon E. G. (Mon E. G.)

Yo Gotti (Yo Gotti)

Its Rickey Ross (Rick Ross)

No lie (Mon E. G.)

Its tha (Mon E. G.)

Chevy Anthem Remix, my Chevy Ridin High (Yo Gotti)

Yes Sir! (Mon E. G.)

(Mon E. G.)

Chevy ridin high, blue candy paint make my teeth hurt

30's on them low pros, gas brake skee skurt

Suicide doors wit tha stick in tha floor

My whole arm stay icy, keep my dick in ya whore

You dont really wanna race me at tha light, red green take flight

Glass packs loud pipes, tv's are too bright

Outta spite, Ima turn up tha sound ta drown ya music

Cocaine white charger, reminiscin tha Cool Whip

2 seconds done dipped, smashed out in tha glass house

West Coast mentallity, here ta switch drop tha ass out

Im out on errthang, underdog, deadly game, big block super fast, put that on errthang

You can call me Diddy like Sean, hit the bar team winnin

Feelin good like we winnin tha World Series in tha 9th innin

Free ya mind like John Lennon, interior blue lemon

Cuz Im true to every sentence ball out like tha Pistons

(Chorus 2x)

(Rick Ross)

I started sellin weed dreamin of a 7-3

Dat didnt cut it so fuck it we out here sellin keys

Now my roof suede, and my seats gator

I aint want tints, I like to see haters

We rollin back to back, and we rollin slow

Whitney Houston wit me, nigga Im talkin blow

You suckas talkin slow, im talkin to who coppin mo

They talkin sideways, thats what tha choppas fo’

Sittin on them silver datins, bumpin that bigga rankin

I blew out tha brains, fuck what them niggas thinkin

Multi-millionaire, started wit crack crumbs

So when you hear them glass packs, its time to act up

Rick Ross и Yo Gotti - Chevy Anthem – текст


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