Bars, bars, fire, fire
Tell your girl I won’t retire
I got bars, bars, f*ckin’ cars
Aeroplanes, deep massage
Bars, bars, fire, fire
Tell your girl I won’t retire
Woo
Here I am
Flyin’ down the street like Superman
And I won’t do it but my best friend can
I won’t do it but my best friend can
Got them blue jeans, got them at Costco
She hates that blue cheese, but loves tobasco
But everybody knows that I’m your boss, yo
But everybody knows that I’m the boss though
He know I’m gonna write the words, I’m gonna play the strings
And don’t forget, I still f*ckin’ sing
Even on the street, I was a f*ckin’ king
Even on the street, I was a f*ckin’ king
I got bars, bars, f*ckin’ cars
Aeroplanes, deep massage
Bars, bars, fire, fire
Tell your girl I won’t retire
Woo-hoo, Tokyo
Driftin’ down the street in my sleep, go roll
Rollin’ down my window, I’ll let everybody know
That I bought this car with my puff as dough
Yeah, my best friends don’t need a wine glass
They love the goon sack, up here it’s all class
But everybody knows that they can shake their #ss
But everybody knows that they can shake their #ss
I got bars, bars, f*ckin’ cars
Aeroplanes, deep massage
Bars, bars, fire, fire
Tell your girl I won’t retire
I got a feelin’ I’ll be fine, left it all behind
In the house up in the hill that I once called mine
I left the keys in the van, from sixty-nine
‘Til the motherf*ckin’ madhouse (Empty)
Bars
I got b#tches
b#tches
b#tches
And I got
I got bars, bars, f*ckin’ cars
Aeroplanes, deep massage
Bars, bars, fire, fire
Tell your girl I won’t retire
Woo
Here I am
Flyin’ down the street like Superman
And I won’t do it but my best friend can
I won’t do it but my best friend can
R.IP. to the beat
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Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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