Lirieke:
Weekend Players Through The Trees

says He get plans for me Get your butt right out of bed - Stop buggin' me Get up and move your sleepy head - Don't shake my tree. He said Mow the

movin as one mind, the genuine Star child, Allah's style, many say their barber's wild When I element the foul, prowl, upon the weekend of sweet I gotta

ain't hesistatin' Trees, and chedddar cheese, keepin' me from graduatin' Hoes and clothes, Big bones, and vogues Young nigga puttin' in work, Superstar of the ghetto [Chorus] Summertime, every weekend

says He get plans for me Get your butt right out of bed - Stop buggin' me Get up and move your sleepy head - Don't shake my tree. He said Mow the

no stopping us now, my nigga [Freck Billionaire:] Ya clip trip, clip spit Get your strip wet I got the rubber grip Smith and my rich sweats Player haters

crack 200 grams I pump a G-pack, peeping for where the D's at It's slow, lookin for Rambo, the cop who got grazed Back in the days, chasin niggaz through

band I was in in College Station, Texas. We were a little four piece band, we played weddings and parties and out on the porch and beer joints and one weekend

freaks from the town It's goin' down, different sets Congregatin' to kick it Just the Northeners and allies Ain't nobody set trippin' Got pitbulls chained to the trees

movin as one mind, the genuine Star child, Allah's style, many say their barber's wild When I element the foul, prowl, upon the weekend of sweet I gotta