I’m off that weed boy
Swisher sweets no phillies (yeah)
Young Khalifa man, (uh huh)
What up to the whole west coast
I had to do this one man
It’s Mr. 4-1 uh, yeah
Young guy come to write beats I’m the baddest
Everything tatted
Call me young Travis
Taylor gang ’til the day I get buried
I’m next up to bat watch the game get buried
And don’t take that line for something it’s not
‘Cause I don’t beef I feed off of hip hop
Rocks in my wrist watch
Blunts with the best smoke
Pittsburgh n#gg# hit n’ rob em on the west coast
Here young boss (boss)
I’m a boss too (too)
I’m what they want (want)
Call me A-1
All my hoes on point like a ray gun (gun)
Got a tattoo on her that say young
And I don’t rock jays
Only five o’ onе jeans and all black Chuck Tays
And I don’t know the game (gamе)
But I know this beats one of the hardest (yeah)
They should have never got young started
Let’s go
Star power’s in the building
Yeah yup, star power
Yeah yup, star power
Yeah yup, Taylor gang’s in the building
Yeah yup, Taylor gang
Yeah yup, Taylor gang
Yeah yup, Taylor gang’s in the building
Yeah yup, Taylor gang
Yeah yup, Taylor gang
Yeah yup, star power’s in the building
Yeah yup, star power
Yeah yup, star power
Yeah yup
What up Taylor gang
It’s star power
Yup
Problem what up n#gg#
You know what it is man
We fitting to fly out
I told you n#gg#s I was gonna go in
What you thought?
I was playing?
Nope (nope)
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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