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Yeah (Ehhh!!) Yeah (Ehhh!!) Ahh Huh!! Ahh Huh!! Uuuugggghhh!! Yeah Mane!! It’s Magic!! E40 & my partna T-Pain (Nappy Boy!!) CHORUS Open up that garage It’s a big fat car With a big fat bow on top (on top) It’s a Bentley Coupe with the roof let back Now shawty you know that’s hot Imma give her the keys (Uuugghh!!)Ooohh (Uuugghh!!)Ooohh (Uuugghh!!)Ooohh (2x’s) Now shawty sang it to me Oooohh!! Ooohh!! Ooohh!! Ooohh!! And Imma give her the keys Oooohh!! Ooohh!! Ooohh!! Ooohh!! E40 Uuuugggghhh!!!! From a bucket to a Benz A Benz to a Bentley Down with me from the start Got my back like a tank top When I used to be on the block She hid my rocks in her yacht Got a special place in my heart She knows how to play her part Every time I look at you darling I get a hard on You sexy without your make up on I wanna bone Move you out the hood I told you I would I’m not phony We both from the same place Grew up on fried bologna They say the opposites attract But we gotta a lot in common Behind every boss player is a boss woman Imam fiend when it come to our cooking You do your thang Throw down like Paula Dean Neck bones & collard greens CHORUS E40 Born in the mud, raised in the trap Down ass broad, never been a sap If I ever need bail, went to jail, got popped You’ll be Johnny on the spot You’ll come & get me out A loyalist, not just a friend to me We was meant to be We got chemistry You like when I lay this pipe Been around each other so long They say we starting to look a like Starting to think a like Getting our money right Fuss, fight, then make love all night California king on a California queen My California dream We make a good team CHORUS E40 It’s the little things that count Any means much Can’t nothing come between us Can’t nothing separate us You’re my backbone You my rib You my chick You my backbone You my rib You my chick It’s the little things that count Any means much Can’t nothing come between us Cant nothing separate us You my backbone You my rib You my chick You my backbone You my rib You my chick Yeah mane!! It’s a drought on loyal females The good ones is hard to find mane So when you find a good one Hold on to that broad Mane you hear me CHORUS |
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