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Soulja Boy

Jump Out The Coupe!

 

Jump Out The Coupe!


Yeah (Go 'head, O)
Yeah, yeah (Ayy, Dil'), yeah

Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah, yeah
Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah

Jumped out the coupe, nigga whipping up dope
And don't play with my gang, ain't no playing with Dre
Drop, wop, I'm having juice and some killers and niggas that's ready to shoot
Ha, jumped out the coupe, look at my shoes
Pour up a deuce, yeah
I'm pouring this out when we shooting at you
Red Lambo, nigga, when I skrrt through
Red gelato, I'm trapping
Money Gang, westside, nigga, I get to clapping
Whack me a opp, he was gangster, nigga, what happened?
I take that brick and wrap it in a napkin

Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah, yeah
Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah
Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah, yeah
Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe
Jumped out the coupe, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm back again
Send your location, I'm ready to spin
I'm losing my voice, but I'm still going in
I was jumping the top out the Maybach 2020 Benz
If her boyfriend from D, trade Cartier lens
In with AK, Apple TV on film
Versace, they copy and that's be him
Jump out the Gotti, new Maserati
Life of the party, hey, hey
Everyday, I'm trending topic, trap in the Martian
You know I be popping, hey, hey
On feet, Yeezy, make it look easy
Diamonds be freezing, hey
Ran lot of M's up, they didn't believe me
Ran out on man when I'm passing, it's easy
Big Draco the goat and I know they not and they see why
Just did an album and on it is T.I
Christian and Louis, I don't wear no Levi's
A Lamborghini drop top two-seater
Choppa clap, make him Macarena
That choppa gon' sing like, "Señorita"
Straight drop, Wockhardt, I don't pocket tequila
Jump out the coupe, jump out the jump
Jump out the damn, I got them stamps
That's a big body Lamb'
Open fire showers, they looking like, "Damn"
Draco ham, I'm fresh out the can
Keep dissing on me and I'm murking your man
Got the passport stamps, I done went to Japan
And I'm spinning opp block just like ceiling fan
We gon' slide, blah-blah, black doors on minivans
Leave me my nigga, but I ain't never rock no Vans
I beat that pot like Peter Pan
Shots, shots, they looking at me like, "Damn"
See no motorcycle, this a three-wheel Can-Am
I'ma run to that money like gingerbread man
Nigga, catch me if you can
Those Perc 30's 'bout to be in my hand
This ZaZa exotic came with the gram

готово

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