MY COUGAR SHORTY CALLED THE UBER FOR ME

[Intro: al.divino]
Ayy

[Verse 1: al.divino]
My cougar shorty called the uber for me, open the door, nude for me (Ay!)
Could of been Medusa, conduce a ho just like a woman with her
All broke bitches just don't do it for me (Chi-ching, chi-ching)
One drunk night I had you lookin' stupid, amori lordy, my whip (Woop)
Rockin' three-quarter figure
Mean face, face features gorgeous (Mwuah)
Cliquot pourin'
Like a fountain bottle, we eat hoardin' (Blow-blow-blow-blow!)
Keep it peace though, have 'em runnin like he four (Bing-bing-bing-bing-bing-bing)
Freaks foreign
Bareley speak english, still sayin' the same thing likе a thesaurus (I know this shit, hah)
Won't be long 'til we tourin' (Woop)
Still watchin' for dеtect senators, supreme Steep Tech
Got a .40 in it (Blow-blow-blow, blow)
Motto of course we winnin' (Come on, man, you already know)
Son (You know)
I need like a hundred bitches (Ay!)
I need like a hunnid thou' (Chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-ching!)
In a New York Minute (Yay)
Fuck it, we up now (We up, woop)
Spendin' money like it's always gon' come back (Back, man)

[Interlude: al.divino & LORD JAH-MONTE OGBON]
What up, JAH?
Let's get this money, man, you heard?
Swimmin' in it like Scrooge McDuck
Swoop (You already know, ayy)

[Verse 2: LORD JAH-MONTE OGBON]
No broke bitches, my women stay caked up (Yeah)
Play tuff (Ay), ayy
You gon' get your grave dugged (Get yo' shit dugged)
No, we don't play, Blood (Nah)
Love the ditch, she wan' a encore (Ah)
I can't, I'm on tour (I'm outta here)
Blicks like a Vietnam war
But you don't want war, ayy (Nah, you don't want that, my—)
Was outside for that revenue, shorts tellin' you off (Ay)
Pray for me, duck them Federal courts, we never talked
Like we don't got the freedom of speech, watch how you speak, son
My youngan put three in your Jeep, ayy (Ayy)
The sound of vinyl like the Bill of Rights
Pental fight (What's up, ma?)
With my young bitch was born in bread, she the willow type, ayy (That bread)
You can check my background, my shit fuelled with stripes (Foul)
My bitch the builder type, think we gon' chill
I told her, "Chill, get light" (Get outta here)
My pen game poppin'
I need five bills to write a sixteen (Gotta get that bag, my nigga)
Duke, don't get your whip steamed, pussy (Don't get shit smoked)
My rich game like whipped cream (Hold on)

[Outro: LORD JAH-MONTE OGBON]
God, ya already know who it is, nigga (Rob-your-plug-dot-com)