(Hook)

Oh, oh, luxury

Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that

Oh, oh, collard greens

Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that

Oh, oh, down with that shit

King shit, smoke this, get down with the shit, aye

Oh, oh, down with the shit

This, that, pop this down with the shit

(Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q)

Smoke this, drink this

Straight to my liver

Watch this, no tick

Yeah, I’m the nigga

Gang rap, X-mas

Smoke, shots I deliver

Faded, Vegas

Might sponsor the killer

Shake it, break it

Hot hot for the winter

Drop it, cop it

Eyes locked on your inner object

Rock it, blast-blast, new beginnings

Lovely, pinky how not I remember

Fiending

Gimme, gimme, gimme some

Freak the freckles off your face

Frenchy, freaking, swapping tongue

Click my link and spread your buns

Loose your denim, make it numb

Blow it baby, no Saddam

Icky, icky, icky

Fucking in the car service

Thank me for the car pool

Chromosome, part full

Prolly off a Norco

And gas, not the Arco

Popping since the intro

You shopping from the window

Play my favorite tempo

(Verse 2: Lil-Freezy)

Hol Up Biatch!

You know who it be

Freezenation in other words its that homie Freeze

I'm poppin these bitches pussies

Yo man girl he is a rookie

He looks like a fuckin wookie

Does he sound like *Noise*

I fight like this

On a night like this

Come to the club I'mma steal yo bitch

I am more than a man I'mma boss

No Maybach Rick Ross

And when you play my shit on blast you know you ain't ever gon pause

And when you hear doo doo doo doo look out for the fuzz

I drop a 10 on this

I'm goin in on this

I'm blowin shit

I'm blowin on some real swisher swisher shit some swisher shit

You knowin that a homie gettin real lit he real lit

When he slow it down (down down)

Hol up lemme blow this bitch

Stra Straight Straight to the mothafuckin moon

Atmosphere the clearest

I'm lookin atchu mothafuckin goons

Wonder where your career is?

You can nearly play every fuckin toon

I know every lyric

Drop that top on the route 09

Is it my Camero that ya'll fearin ahh!

(Hook)

Oh, oh, luxury

Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that

Oh, oh, collard greens

Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that

Oh, oh, down with that shit

King shit, smoke this, get down with the shit, aye

Oh, oh, down with the shit

This, that, pop this down with the shit

(Verse 3: ScHoolboy Q)

Bummy nigga famous, straight from the bottom

Broke niggas hate it, still never robbed 'em

Guns in the basement, out they have a problem

Kush be my fragrance, we love marijuana

Function on fire, burn the roof off this motherfucker

Psych ward is ballin', dope craze like no other

Weed steady blowing, pass the blunt to my Mama

Runs in the family, puff-puff keep a nigga fiending uh

Faded faded faded right

Shot glass super size, she gon' get some dick tonight

Meet me at the W, and no its not the westside

Stick it up ya southside (Icky icky icky)

Baller futuristic, groovy gangsta with an attitude

What these niggas make a year, I spend that on my daughter shoes

Smoking weed and drinking, all the college students loving Q

We gon' turn it out until the neighbors wanna party too

(Hook)

Oh, oh, luxury

Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that

Oh, oh, collard greens

Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that

Oh, oh, down with that shit

King shit, smoke this, get down with the shit, aye

Oh, oh, down with the shit

This, that, pop this down with the shit