Aww Shit! Songtext / Lyric

Looking too fly, walking to the bar

N***** wanna stop, asking who I are

Hands on my waist trying to find out

If I'm gonna flip off of one drink and can he get down

I'm a rock, hip-hop, pop star

Can't check out the door in a fast car

Never run from nothing when I come through

Roll with the realest that can take out your whole crew



Aww s***

Aww s***

Aww s***

I can make a whole song talk s***



Aww s***

Aww s***

Aww s***

I can make a whole song talk s***






I don't like to dance through a slow song

You're too close and I can't get my groove on

Drop a beat and let a girl feel something

I'm so gutter, watch me two-step to something

Tippy-toes tip and make a mean walk

I ain't tryna listen to your big talk

High off my drink for the third time

Boy, come and get it, watch me make these n***** fall in line



Aww s***

Aww s***

Aww s***

I can make a whole song talk s***



Aww s***

Aww s***

Aww s***

I can make a whole song talk s***



'Bout to head to the hills 'fore I pass out

Get my coat from the check 'fore I spaz out

Pull my whip to the front and I jump in

Catch a look coming from the niggas in the black Benz

Red light and now they tryna hop in

Remember when I was in school, I was your boyfriend?

Got the tint so we never entertaing those

Hungry-ass groupies on the phone like they got hoes



Aww s***

Aww s***

Aww s***

I can make a whole song talk s***



Aww s***

Aww s***

Aww s***

I can make a whole song talk s***



Now I'm feeling mm, mm, good

Eyes filled up with the bloodshots

Look like a lay-up with the legs out

Now he's tryna get a lick but I'm long gone

Keep, keep talking

Keep, keep talking

Keep, keep talking

Keep, keep talking



Who's this man, who's not star?

Yet you wondering who I are

On track with rock hip-hop star, the pop star

Who the man behind hot bars?

Smoke, I'm soon to be popular

Now, where he from?

Is it my city, yo' city?

All you need to know, I come from a dope city

Never shoot the boys, still keep the dope Bentley

Text to the cush with a chase of the Henny

And when I'm looking for a freak, really picky-picky

And if it smell icky, tell her pull up her Vickie's

But if it smell alright, I might do the licky-licky

Let you suck on my neck but, please, no hicky-hickies



Aww s***

Aww s***

Aww s***

I can make a whole song talk s***



Aww s***

Aww s***

Aww s***

I can make a whole song talk s***