On Tour
They turn the lights down, and open the curtains
All the fans stand up and they start roaring
Go Tity Boi, go go Tity Boi
Go Tity Boi, go go Tity Boi
You ain't got no money take your broke ass home
I'm on the cocaine zone, four cellphones
We make the chicken fight, like Roy Jones
The roof know magic, poof, be gone
New suit own with the valet with the duffel
[?] with a chauffeur and you barely getting over
If you see me pumping gas, take a picture, it's a poster
Living la vida loca
Reloader, clip like a soldier, clique full of soldiers
Front line, untie you, put my Pradas on your sofa
I'm supposed to pose, all my clothes is vocal
Loud ass jacket, stupid belt buckles
Brand new pair of boots, I spent two Gs on em
And the boots got two Gs on em
I crunk your bitch up I had no cheese on me
'Cause I crumpled my cup up with no keys on me
It's big money over here nigga
Got the Tommy gun and the Tommy Hilfiger
Tell that bitch to come holler at a real nigga
When she see a nigga, I got so much swag it's OD a nigga
It's dripping all over my motherfucking pinion nigga
But this a process, the thought process
I dress like I'm in a motherfucking contest
Deuce
They turn the lights down, and open the curtains
All the fans stand up and they start roaring
Go Tity Boi, go go Tity Boi
Go Tity Boi, go go Tity Boi