Foreign Shit

Special delivery … Squad!
Salute!
If you real then I salute you
As I walk through the valleys of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil
Squad!
Flocka!

Chillin’ in France, smokin’ AK-47
Run up on my whip, then it’s AK-47
9-2 Westside, 7-8 the best side
The West up, a vest up
Shootin’ from the neck up
Yeah Bye-bye

Two french vanilla blunts and two french freaks
Big „H“ belt, Hermes’s ain’t cheap
Industry nigga, bitch nigga, I’m from the streets
Raised from the gutta
Raised whilst clyin’ crack
Smokin’ weed and poppin’ pills
Rob anything, bitch nigga I gotta eat

Switch the subject
Ridin’ far – foreign Glock, foreign bitch
Gettin’ foreign top on my foreign shit. Flocka! Yeeeaah

Nigga this the life
Flew nine hours just to drink pure Cognac
Yeeeaah
I’m partyin’, poppin’ Mollys and
Drinkin’ like a rockstar
Local-ass rappers – I’m a world star Flex!
V.I.P. club, that’s a World Bar Squad!

That’s the kinda music here you dance to Squad!
Animal sounds party, bring your friends thru’ Squad!
Countin’ grams to Squad!
Pop bottles to Squad!
North side, South side, east side, come thru Squaaaaad!

2,000 in the Louis store, boy I’m splurgin’
Down South France, showin’ my ass in public
I ain’t never pulled down my pants Waka Flocka!
Damn
Waka Flocka Flame

College girls on me, chillin’ on the yacht
Drinkin’ Champagne
Bumpin’ Lil’ Wayne
Throwin’ 500-Dollar-bills – Purple Rain Flex!
Uhuhuhuu
Laughin’ at these haters, mane

God damn, these women make me wanna move to Paris
I go hard – like Cialis
Rappers do what I say
(…) Paris
Any price I can match it
Flocka!

Boom-boom, big stomache, Porcupine
Drinkin’ red wine, flatline
Anyone of yours talkin’ ’bout takin’ anyone of mine?
Grind
365, shawty I’mma shine

That’s the kinda music here you dance to Squad!
Animal sounds party, bring your friends thru’ Squad!
Countin’ grams to Squad!
Pop bottles to Squad!
North side, South side, East side, come thru Squaaaaad!

That’s the kinda music here you dance to Squad!
Animal sounds party, bring your friends thru’ Squad!
Countin’ grams to Squad!
Pop bottles to Squad!
North side, South side, East side, come thru Squaaaaad!

Flocka, Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka

Ay man I’m like the Dre head Boom-Bap, man: skrilled up, man. Clear the lane man. You blockin’ the lane, man. I go hard in the paint, man. Shouts out to the whole France, man: East side, West side, North side, South side. (…) Squaaaaad! Animal sounds, nigga. Squaaaad! Flocka!