Make The Music
Well, it was one of those days, not much to do
I was on South Beach with my specialist crew
In front of that cruise day, think it was a Thursday
Grown man denim, Giuseppe belt, Hermes
Killing these niggas, shorty like damn
Why don't you chose your outfit like four grand
What are you, a dealer, rapper or an athlete
Your neck and wrist gotta be at least 20 keys
Had to find that funny so I said, sorry love
Double that and add 20
Enough about me, you live here or just visiting
She said she in town for the week, she from Michigan
Her name Elizabeth, friends call her Juice
She down here stripping 'cause she really has the move
Her best friend boost hit nina's for a couple commas
And I'm fresh, she could save me a couple dollars
That's cool, I ain't really tripping, though
Them road runners kicking in, shorty sipping slow
She on a four, four, yeah, I think I'm good to go
Close the deal cooler but what that mouth hitting for
Closed mouths don't get fed so I'm here to rep
Ain't nothing really wrong with a little neck
I'm 'bout to take off, baby, was the sex soon
Then she heard that Panamera, birdie yelled 'check!'
Make the music with your mouth, bitch
You ain't never did this before
Make the music with your mouth, bitch
More spit, baby, use your hands, baby, more spit
Make the music with your mouth, bitch
Yeah, like that, oh, shit
Make the music with your mouth, bitch
And make the music, make the music, make the music
With your mouth
Make the music, make the music, make the music
With your mouth