Artist: Freddie Gibbs & Madlib Album: Bandana Song: Massage Seats Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com, Cedmaster3K [Intro] Yeah! Bitch say, "Wassup?", I said, "Uh..." (Nigga flip a brick) Bitch ask me, "Wassup?", I said, "Uh..." (Pimp a bitch) {Ya hear me? WHEEL UP!} Diamonds in the woodgrain wheel, nigga Kane [Freddie Gibbs] Golden State the roster, my garage deep Floating in the foreign on massage seats Yeah, ke-keep designer on a broad feet I been water whippin’, Earl Simmons, all my dawgs eat 44 Bulldog, all my dawgs bite Flexin’ AMG, pushin’ redline through the red light Spot a pussy bwoy with a red dot, bust a headshot They got us in the scope, all this bread talk really fed talk Yeah, nigga fuck it, get your money on Still takin’ calls on this money phone Every Sunday morning, I hit Maurice with the MoneyGram He was major league, I’m pitchin’ softball, underhand (These niggas don’t understand) This ain’t for soccer mommas, this for the underground Niggas was the shit last summer and now they numbers down (bitch) Rappers gettin’ jacked for they jewels, I keep that tool with me I go Makaveli on Hughes Brothers, bitch who the +Menace+? [Interlude] Yeah, Kane, nigga And I was hittin’ bitches, I’m talkin’ ‘bout I was hittin’ R&B bitches when a nigga was broke and shit You know what I’m sayin’, nigga? {Ya hear me? WHEEL UP!} You know what I’m sayin’? Platinum bitches, ya nah mean? Bitches on the charts, you feel me? Yeah Ya nah mean? Not just really big bitches tryna get on, you know what I’m sayin’? (Kane Season) Nigga [Freddie Gibbs] Yeah, nigga fuck it, get your money on Still takin' calls on this money phone (yo, what up?) Every Sunday mornin' Keshia hit me with the MoneyGram (yeah) Touched down in the Chi and make that pussy do the money dance (yeah) I should have a tux on in this bitch, me and money make holy matrimony (uhh) Shot caller, put them shooters on you like D'Antoni Top dollar, lock me up and I make the bond, no +Big Baller+, father you my son like Lonzo (bitch) Entertainer with a lot of trap contacts We pushin' packs cause in this rap, it ain't no max contracts With fifty on a nigga head, that's a trap contract And catch him with a car full and push they whole shit back Seats in the 600, push they whole shit back I flip a flow and do a show and get the whole clique racks, bitch Whip-whippin' Earl Simmons, all my dawgs eat (yeah) Golden State the roster, my garage deep (yeah) Flo-floating in the foreign on massage seats [Outro] Yeah, see, you gotta see nigga You know, you gotta understand (yeah) I'm from Gary, niggas ain't used to no, you know Foreign cars, you know what I'm sayin'? (fuck nigga) Like I remember when {Ya hear me? WHEEL UP!} When, when that nigga Ced came through with the C, C230 or some shit, C or E-Class, some shit I'm like "Nigga, get out that motherfuckin' auntie Benz nigga"