(1st Verse):
Lookin too fly walk into the bar
Niggas wanna stop, askin who I are
Hands on my waist tryna 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 nothin when I come thru
Roll with the realest that can take out your whole crew

(Hook):
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(2nd Verse):
I don’t like to dance to a slow song
You too close and I can’t get my groove on
Drop a beat and let a girl feel somethin
I’m so gutter, watch me two-step to somethin
Tippy-toes tip and make a mean walk
I ain’t tryna listen to your big talk
Top off my drink for the third time
Boy, come and get it
Watch me make these niggas fall in line

(Hook):
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(3rd Verse):
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 comin 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 entertain those
Hungry-ass niggas on they phone like they got hoes

(Hook):
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(Bridge):
Now I’m feelin’ m’m, m’m good
Eyes filled up with the bloodshots
Look like a lamp with the lights out
Now he’s tryna get a lick but I’m long gone

Keep, keep talkin’
Keep, keep talkin’
Keep, keep talkin’
Keep, keep talkin’

(Smoke’s Rap):
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 pop-u-lar
Now, where he from?
Is it my city, your city?
All you need to know, I come from a dope city
Never shoot the boys, still keep the dope in me
Text to the cush with a chase of the Henny
And when I’m lookin’ 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 hickie-hickies

(Hook):
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!

(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
(Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
I can make a whole song talk shit!