Gold Rush

That bitch got cake up on her face
 Off whites lookin' like some damn ice skates
 Damn, I do that dash, bitch, I don't race
 Nigga acting dumb like his weed is laced
 Hold on
 Hold on, bitch, do you see my pockets?
 Everything in it, I will never fold
 Bitch, I won't drop it
 Everything I wear then they go and cop it
 I ain't fuckin' with you hoes if you on that opp shit, hold on
 Wicked Rick, we just hit a lick
 I'm a walking lick, I just took his bitch, damn, hold on
 She cried too much so I had to switch, rock
 Rockin' with the clique on some groovy shit, damn, hold on
 Yeah, we on that Cali shit, smoking Bali, bitch
 Bitch, I got racks up on my wrist, damn
 Walk in the club and watch it glist, yeah
 Bitch, I'm tatted on my fist
 I'm rolling dubs while she rolling nicks
 Lookin' like I play for the Knicks
 Don't cry, quit complaining
 She can't-, burning down the floor and she just ate her alive
 She got it
 I just pull up with my silky on
 He think he the only man with a milky on
 Hold on, yeah, I got these bitches going
 Hold on, even though they get annoying (huh)
 Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up, go
 Got a lotta, got a lotta, got a lotta, dough
 Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up, go
 Got a lotta, got a lotta, kick it up, bah, go
 That bitch got cake up on her face
 Off whites looking like some damn ice skates
 Damn, I do that dash, bitch, I don't race
 Nigga actin' dumb like his weed is laced, hold on
 Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up, go
 Got a lotta, got a lotta, got a lotta, dough
 Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up, go
 Got a lotta, got a lotta, kick it up, bah, go