Aww Shit! (feat. Smoke) - Main Version - Explicit

Aww Shit!"
 Lookin' too fly walkin' to the bar
 Niggas wanna stop, askin' who I are
 Hands on my waist tryna find out
 If I'm gonna flip off of one drink and can he get down
 I'm a rock hip-hop pop star
 Can't check out the door in a fast car
 Never run from nothin' when I come thru
 Roll with the realest that can take out your whole crew
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 I can make a whole song talk shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 I can make a whole song talk shit!
 I don't like to dance to a slow song
 You too close and I can't get my groove on
 Drop a beat and let a girl feel somethin'
 I'm so gutter, watch me two-step to somethin'
 Tippy-toes tip and make a mean walk
 I ain't tryna listen to your big talk
 High off my drink for the third time
 Boy, come and get it
 Watch me make these niggas fall in line
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 I can make a whole song talk shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 I can make a whole song talk shit!
 'Bout to head to the hills 'fore I pass out
 Get my coat from the check 'fore I spaz out
 Pull my whip to the front and I jump in
 Catch a look comin' from the niggas in the black Benz
 Red light and now they tryna hop in
 (Remember when I was in school, I was your boyfriend)
 Got the tint so we never entertain those
 Hungry-ass groupies on the phone like they got hoes
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 I can make a whole song talk shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 I can make a whole song talk shit!
 Now I'm feelin' m'm, m'm good
 Eyes filled up with the bloodshots
 Look like a lay-up with the legs out
 Now he's tryna get a lick but I'm all gone
 Keep, keep talkin'
 Keep, keep talkin'
 Keep, keep talkin'
 Keep, keep talkin'
 Who's this man who's not star?
 Yet you wondering who I are
 On track with rock hip-hop star, the pop star
 Who the man behind hot bars?
 Smoke, I'm soon to be popular
 Now, where he from?
 Is it my city, your city?
 All you need to know, I come from a dope city
 Never shoot the boys, still keep the dope Bentley
 Text to the cush with a chase of the Henny
 And when I'm lookin' for a freak, really picky-picky
 And if it smell icky, tell her pull up her Vickie's
 But if it smell alright, I might do the licky-licky
 Let you suck on my neck but, please, no hickie-hickies
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 I can make a whole song talk shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 (Hicky-Hicky-Hicky) Aww shit!
 I can make a whole song talk shit!