Botany Boyz - Drop It in the Sunny lyrics

(feat. Vic) (talking:) Let's head down, to the Kappa Beach Going down g-string, pinky rings Uh how you love that, now hol' up hol' up (C-Note:) Let's drop it, in the sunny My diamond grill, means I'm all about my money Just making cash fast, riding through the Sunset Valley Hennessey blowing trees, at the Source in Cali n***a let's drop the top, let's make it hop let's make all hoes bop You know it's Botany Big Shots, when them blades go chop When them roofs go pop, when we pull off the lot And if them cops in our spot, then we sail on a yacht We acting bad at the Kappa, we seen a lot of hoes Seen a lot of 4's, n***az balling like they pros Doing shows, hoes with diamonds in they toes Rolling optimoes, cause it blowing out my nose Chromey 4's, but that's a baller subject The Botany Boys did a deal, a million dollar budget We playas, we never broke long we grab em How can this one song, out-jam your whole album (Hook: Vic) Come on, let's drop it in the sunny The B-Boys, are all about the money yeah (Will-Lean:) Well I'ma drop the top, with the beat on knock Pull it out fo' seat, Lamborgini on dots Wrecking the cops, I'm the one they ready to stop Wrist full of rocks, jumping out the piss on the block Pitcher and watts, the time when gangstas gon shine Rolexes gon wind, and diamonds gon blind b**hes gon mind with spandex, exposing they bodies 2000 Mazaratti, as we rolling through Roxy Me and my peeps, car laying peeping some freaks Fo' deep in a jeep, and they cheifing on sweets Million dollar figgas, that's all about they money Ride the boss with Nina Ross, as I floss through that sunny side Where thugs hanging, and 84's swanging Plus 18 bangings, and c.d. changing Botany rearranging, Cloverland representing Dropping it in the sunny, making our money independent (Hook) (D-Red:) Recline my top to feel the sun rays, I'm 4 swanging Turn three lanes into a one way, with screens hanging Ain't no drama or no gunplay, and no slanging This a perfect day to parlay, parlay When woofers kick it feel like gla** breaking, all about that cash making f** pa** faking, that's why these boppers keep they a** shaking The drop pancaking, juiced and on charge No your eyes aren't mistaking, fifty car enterouge Chrome shining baguettes blinding, that's the way that we ball If I snap my fingers twice, like grain bikinis gon fall I tip green eyed British broads, with tats on they tummy When Big Shots hit the block, tops gon drop in the sunny (Hook x2)