Royce Da 5' 9 f/ Sara Strokes - Wet My Whistle Lyrics |
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Lyrics: [Sara Stokes] Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Adjust ya radio Boy you got me tripping, boy you got me tripping Baby wet my whistle, boy you got me tripping You got me heated So won't you wet my whistle, boy you drive me crazy And I can't get enough [Verse 1] (It's him) With the B-to the Double O-M You can feel the breeze from the Rover, the Benz You can hear it over and over again As I get closer and closer, then Rolling by the pose with the blow and the dro and the blend, with the soldier grin Rolling by the sto' with the 4-0, sitting in my lap like Ice Cube way back when But we too grown, so we roll by a hoe in the two tone, Maybach Benz (He ain't even from the hood) sell it to the streets Nigga yelling that to me, you selling that for cheap You best stick to walking, unless you'd like to be offed'en For less then the price of a coffin Nigga where them dollars at' Straighten up your face I'm smelling you aroma, you hating up the place Before I start K'ing up the place, this is what you fearing [Chorus: Sara Stokes + (Royce Da 5'9')] Adjust your radio Boy you got me tripping (This is what you hearing, Boom) Boy you got me tripping (This is what you hearing, Boom) Baby wet my whistle (Boom) Boy you got me tripping (This is for the trunks with them thangs in 'em, Boom) You got me heated (This is for the trunks with them thangs) So won't you wet my whistle' (Boom) Boy you drive me crazy (This is for the trunks with them thangs in 'em, Boom) And I can't get enough [Verse 2] It's him, with the B-to the Double O-M You can feel the breeze from the Rover, the Benz You can hear it over and over again As I get closer and closer, then Sounding like a plane on the landing strip Wheels looking like fans on a whip Backseat of my Benz lets swing an episode Come on, cheat on ya man ma, he don't have to know I got a room like the Real World confessional Booth, I only allow true professional (Can we turn the camera off') Uh-uh, that's a no (Can I put my shoes on ya seat') Uh-uh, that's a no, I bring a light to ya hood with me Hop in this car and shine honey if you wanna be looking good with me You see that full clip by him, like he that hood rich nigga Riding in that BF Goodrich tire My status in the streets don't matter When the haters come thru like the static in the speakers [Chorus] [Verse 3] Boom, niggaz at the car wash looking (looking) scheming (scheming) Tires gleaming (gleaming) ya'll stay mad At the wood grain in the parque dash Stash in the deck, albums banging (banging) Off the fiberglass of the Vette (like Boom) While we hanging, doing our thang Me and one of my mayne, it's a summertime thang [Outro: Sara Stokes] Boom...haha...'I-C Boy you got me tripping Boy you got me heated And I can't get enough More songs from this artist Comments for this song |
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