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Yeah, this is another Sol Messiah production You are now tuned in to the
sounds of Jay Electronica Man this is some beautiful weather we having this year right This is grown folk music right here It ain't been this cool in a
couple of summers It's Friday night, in the
club and I'm feeling a
vibe I'm sharp as a
tack I'm black and I'm feeling alive Senoritas on the
floor three-quarters naked The
deejay was banging that "We gon' make it" Ok, I
can deal with this All the
ladies starting screaming "Where my real niggas" I
seen Dave by the
bar getting gin in a
cup I
said "Dave, where's Bum[?]" "Man he still in the
truck" Stink pink gators My Detroit players Chilling in the
circle Errol Flynning it up Yup, now it's off to V-I-P The
waitresses be grinning when they see Ali Two dimes walked up "Can we sit with 'ya'll" I
said "I don't know ma, lemme see I-D" Cause the
truth is she really wanna take me to the
telly Put my dick in her belly Then play me like R.Kelly But I
can't go for that I'm on a
mission I
can't put myself in that compromising position So um, we can chill relax for a
minute Maybe a
pat on the
back or some dap when I'm finished Now, I
right back to the
two-step Two in the
morning and I
ain't even loose yet (I ain't even loose yet... haha) Hey deejay play my song Rock that shit all night long This party won't stop This party won't quit This party's on hit nigga We came to rock we came to step We came to shut this bitch down Keep talking that shit Keep popping that shit Get knocked the
fuck out We can get it cracking any minute right now man I'm ready for war On the
dancefloor two-stepping like Sigma Beta With them down south head 'bussas knocking out a
hater I
mastered the
dark side of the
force like Darth Vader Now, lean back like Fat Joey Crack Jay Elect got the
flow to make your booty go clap I'm a
Third Ward soldier I
told you playa' See the
U-P-T and the
clothes I
we-ar Out in that lower ninth ward the
walk with a
bop Never caught without a
glock or a
sock full of rocks Shoutout to Big Reem on this twenty-four-seven hustle to stack the
green Man, niggas got plans and dreams Cash rules everything around me, cream Get the
money Haters wanna see me stay bummy But you can't change my cards or take nothing from me Police coming (what) Fireman coming (what) Niggas wiling out in the
club we stay dumbing Niggas styling out in the
club now say something Man, I'm ready to wile out The
game just started I'm ready to foul out 'Ya'll better hope we gracefully bow out But we don't want no trouble tonight man...
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