Wiz Khalifa
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Pedal To The Medal

Wiz Khalifa


Cool
Blue Ice,
Things never looked this nice

(Verse 1)
It's the life we live, it's the price we pay
400 a zip, imperial rose
Black diamonds and all of my whips timeless,
Vow to never break your heart or a promise
I got us
Ain't a show off, just being honest
You wanna sip mimosas, I'll pour em
Take a trip, we can blow a few dollars
Other bitches you heard about em
But you're moving forward and never backwards
Cop shorty a quarter, let her roll it up for practice
Love to role play, you studying to be an actress
What the haps is, I'ma call you later then I'll fall through
Maybe we can all get faded
And I'm 100, them others tryin to fake it
Self made G, millionaire in the making
Boss of my team, bringin home the bacon
Ya nigga fallin off you need a replacement,
Face it
Now you drunk and your heart's racin

(Hook)
Let me buy you a drink, better yet a bottle
Girl you look good, you remind me of a model
Ooh yeah, yeah.. Yeah-ee, yeah, yeah
So we off to the crib, girly gon' follow
Pedal to the medal, everything full throttle
Ooh yeah, yeah.. Yeah-ee, yeah, yeah

(Verse 2)
The money come in, the money go
The same seem to pertain to them corny hoes
So I keep it G, continually stack this paper
While all them bitches chase me
Won't be in ??? safety
Bitch can't hold her self down
Then she bound to drizzown
We party in Vegas, Smokin'
Pina Colada papers
Travel the world, people know what our face is
Waitress, bringin em by the cases
For me and my real niggas, we not in the matrix
I'm talkin plane shit, that shit you have to join the gang wit
Can probably make you leave your man
For first class living, taking pictures in the sand
100 thousand dollar whips, shopping trips to Japan
So you rollin' if you know like I know
Them niggas don't go where I go
Gangsta

(Hook)
Let me buy you a drink, better yet a bottle
Girl you look good, you remind me of a model
Ooh yeah, yeah.. Yeah-ee, yeah, yeah
So we off to the crib, girly gon' follow
Pedal to the medal, everything full throttle
Ooh yeah, yeah.. Yeah-ee, yeah, yeah

(Verse 3)
Ok
Mami, I fucks wit you borderline stuck wit you
I roll up, hit the airport and stunt wit you
Count all this bread, maybe split a cut wit you
No respect to niggas who smoke blunts wit you
All wins, No loss
Big house, mowed lawn
No lease, owned cars
Straight work, I'm my own boss

(Hook)
Let me buy you a drink, better yet a bottle
Girl you look good, you remind me of a model
Ooh yeah, yeah.. Yeah-ee, yeah, yeah
So we off to the crib, girly gon' follow
Pedal to the medal, everything full throttle
Ooh yeah, yeah.. Yeah-ee, yeah, yeah
Compositor: Wiz KhalifaPublicado em 2010ECAD verificado fonograma #17704308 em 20/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM

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