and im still talking champagne
good weed, bad bitches and airplanes
niggas get extra like spare change
leave your bitch round my gang then she fair game
its so hot standing near a flame
20thousand on my wrist 50 on my chain
club owners mad we drinking all the rozay
and niggas hate but i just go off what the hoes say
he a skinny nigga but he do it big
ya its looking like a movie but its how i live
young boss, taylor gang general
drinking out the pink bottle, rozay imperial
and my bad bitch look like the centerfold
cook like a chef, smoke weed like its for dissinial
smell the engine burn you hear my tires murk
we be popping corks like fireworks

ima need more champagne
tell the waitress bring a couple more bottles
and break em up
we buy the bar for every nigga that came with us
we got some broads to drink em all grab a drink
and get fucked up
champagne
see them bottles of rozay aint a thing to us
just bought em in the club cause our paper up
bitch you hate to? waitress bruh
ima need more champagne

v. i. p. full of red bottles
in the city that i come from im the head honcho
ounces full of kush, bottles full of more wet
see me in my car she got so wet
used to smoke blunts now she roll planes
quit fuckin with her nigga he was so lame
said she love the taste but she dont know the name
drinking by the case im gonna need ya
to bring more champagne
im with my goons gettin liquored up
make this money and blow it like i dont give a fuck
show em to the club they pull them bottles out
if you gettin money you should know
just what im talking about
uh i live the life you write a song about
bitches think im famous, favors come in large amounts
standing on the table, standing on the couch
somebody tell the waitress cause we almost out