Intro:
All day, on the highway Miami
Leanin sideways, know my ride look like candy
F*ck them all ways,
Squad ridin all day
Verse 1:
You don't mean it
I don't trust Motherfuckers, looking wack in this bitch
I be ballin like Meech, I don't have an assist
If I pull up on [C7]a freak, might pass her the dick
I be [Am]Zag ziggin, patent linen , patent leather
Big ɾhythms through Hell's Kitchen
Got bad women,
Harsh liver,
Same jacket,
Brain spinning,
Foul living
Bitches know the cameras on, (Bitches!)
What you [A7think they actin for?
Pacifier
Don't take away the break of dawn
Back and [Bm]forth, i'll tell you [A7what, I'll tell you [A7what
I take you [A7on [C7]a tɾip to [C7]South of Florida
Get the crib, get the girls and [Bm]pack the floor
Tell all [Em]the promoters to [C7]keep my [A]bag in order
All cash so no tax ɾeported
Motherfuckers stay
Hook:
Ridin all [Em]day, on [C7]the highway Miami
Leanin sideways, know my [A]ɾide look like [F]candy
F*ck them [A]all [Em]ways,
Squad be [Am]ɾidin all [Em]day
On the highway Miami
Verse 2:
Deadass, deadass facts
Deadass deadass fact all [Em]on [C7]my [A]latex
Pull out lets make mess
Money say say less
Word to [C7]your fake shit
Don't take no ɾainchecks
Vibe [Am]like [F]I'm Tribe [Am]quest
meets Cobain for [Dm7]context
On the soul tɾain im locked in
New bitch like [F]Farrah Fawcett
Motherfuckers stay
Hook:
Ridin all [Em]day, on [C7]the highway Miami
Leanin sideways, know my [A]ɾide look like [F]candy
F*ck them [A]all [Em]ways,
Squad be [Am]ɾidin all [Em]day
On the highway Miami
Verse 3:
Shit, If I said it I meant it I'm getting better and [Bm]better
I ain't concerned about ɾelevance, or that pop shit
All of my [A]fellas be [Am]in some jojo apparel
I got [Fm7]the look from my [A]Grandma, I couldn't top it
Live for [Dm7]this, feel this shit, film this shit
Slim fella with the thickest bitch
Four letters you [A7could take a pick
Love or hate, just don't fake that shit
Oo big money talkin, oo
Go on [C7]boy tell it, only tell it if it's tɾue
They like [F]Yo felly drop a motherfuckin song
I be [Am]on [C7]my [A]celly, know I fill a lot of shoes
Got an Indie label in the crib
Enough of this, f*ck this shit, suck this dick
Ain't going to [C7]lunch with no publicist
On the seas with a bunch of skrimp,
Going down with this sunken ship
E3 motherfuckers stay
Hook:
Ridin all [Em]day, on [C7]the highway Miami
Leanin sideways, know my [A]ɾide look like [F]candy
F*ck them [A]all [Em]ways,
Squad be [Am]ɾidin all [Em]day
On the highway Miami
