Mr. Lucci - There They Go lyrics

(Mr. Lucci) Say hold that down lil' daddy (wussup) Ahh its nothin' Man I thought I just seen the rollahs Gon head and keep on chokin' Do you see them scopin (where) Over there wit the long 4 g's I bet I go get her Or my name ain't the wig splitta, should I naw I'm just flossin up on the scene Let me gon and drop mo screens n***a lets gon and splurge mo green Hop in the bourbon, poppin the ??? Rockin the curb, in my excursion on these fools Chop chop the block, then co*k the Glock Spread the word here comes my crew Lucci, tre 80 set straight ain't no hate in the lone star state While we bake the cake, then brake the plate Them the south side playas that a ya date Cause we B-A-L-L-I-N what I'm known fo knockin down yo stone do' Wit 4 12's and my chrome tote f** up in the reefer smoke When I turned the corner wit my head blown Talkin' bout my business deals and my sprint phone wit icons If you thank you sho they hold on cause Mr. Lucci puttin in work Candy apple below the seal wit a wood wheel sittin on some skirts (chorus repeat 2x) When we come around the block wit the Glock co*ked and I scream pop There they go, motherf**er there they go When we comin down the lane grippin grain let 'em hang what they sayin Where they go, motherf**er where they go (Mr. Pookie) Bendin corners on twa*ky twak Wit double coated candy pain't Ducked down in my bucket seats wit a box of sweets wit a cup of drank Puff the dank all through the streets Drop the top, co*k the heat, pop the trunk Pop the screens, pop the do's, point the beam Stay in front sippin lean Wit the bubblelize wit the candy queen Wind choke to that sticky green Wit the triple beam sippin Dom P Its Pookie and Lucci all up in yo booty Hoes be like ohh wee Man yall can't see me Ice cold and extra thoed Poppin pills blowin doja S & d wit optimos Yo ears bleed yo eye explode Third degree wit the highest volt To the snipe n***a wit a double scope Tha wrong words might cost yo throat My nutz hang just like a rope Big wheels and a 100 spokes Big ball points still cash flow Slang north star like la**o Small joints we pa** doe Gettin how we live tho The wind blow wit my cash flow When we comin around the block Ima drop the top and let my grill show (repeat chorus 2x) My Glock a frind when I roll in When a cup of henn and my blue benz Gutted out on 2 10's Wit brake lite in the rear fen 2 friends wit gold grinz Holdin while I'm rollin Twink twink on my pink pink Puff puff on the good green Now how the hell you feel when we ridein shinein in the place Diamondz all up in yo face Betta cuff yo hoe up out the way Stand up straight and make way for these for these mothaf**in trill n***as Always quick to steal n***as Hell yeah its the wig splitta Now a whoz these n***as wit the coolest figgaz And a move these n***as And a groove these brizzas Its a L-U-C-C in a crunk spot where the freaks be Wit a crisp crease Scopein out yo g-string Wat a sweet treat From the Nawff D We be wat you might call off the chain hoe In a durango wit a strange glow In a stash spot where my thangs go when my banks low And mob wit a tre 8-0 Everybody up on the block be like There they go (repeat chours 2x)