Thats Just Gold (Instrumental)

My couch basement, laying in the cut about eight
It's raining outside, my mouth dry like I was just blazin'
Brain rush when the celly ring, a two-way or just a phone
Fuck it though, it ain't essential link to me busting flows
Bro cusses a couple biddies who clutch a dozen cold
Suds and smoke juice, so if it's booze then I must have known
The crew is cruising 'cross the Second Arrow Bridge
And got tickets to a show, you said to go, they heard crickets
Gut laced with hunger pains, maybe another day
He chuckled, and saying "Son, if you must we can hit up Subway"
So it was on, rolled equipped with old Timbs
And flipped my bridges on so I could get rich like any pimp
The broads dripping, flying, I ducked in the whip
In stock, I'm a guzzler, said my coffee mug is topped to the brim
Knocked her kittens in the back, man, phat passenger service
In Europe, he hit the gas, a bitch is passing me Bourbon
As I capped it, I was joking with them folks from the fairer sex
So Joe was on the phone to girls ago, "Are we there yet?"
I'm laughing though, they act to know the plan for the jam is to
Meet in the street and have a smoke before we hit the VIP
He's like "Peace clique" and reached for the weed quick
And chickens in the back ain't doing nothing but giggling
Shit a man in my position more concerned with that jiggling
Man, oh no, player, fuck the front, later sit with them
I'm seeing hearts like it's heaven and the lemon hard
Helps young men and women get a good start
As the whip darts through them dark elements
And pedaled, take us where we gotta get
Cause the real party starts at eleven, kid
The 80 of gin, my name on the list
The lanes that we switch, that's just gold
The ladies that twist, just babies in whips
A Canadian prince, that's just gold
Rolling down the window, kid, skipping on the disc
With the chicks poking him, yo, we got any disco?
It's Joe with the conference call phone blowing up
With y'all folks is already at the club, what we got at all
I stole a glance up in the mirror at my hat and stuff
Buzzing, staring at them ladies in the cut and wearing nothing
Much, wink, she flashing me ivories
Teeth sink on blunt wraps, eyes creep beside me, she tongue that
Jealousy of lime green beverage, torrential hail
The high beams as we French inhale
And cut back as the engine wailing through the guts
Of Hastings, reach down, my legs is Van Halen
Yo, she's got it, I wanna get our shuck and jive going
If we getting drunk, I'm looking forward to the ride home
They said the club is yes bumping, son, all I see is
Wet road reflection cold leather on my neck
It's the West Coast, grey depths of the old growth
Oak, though at such pace they became Deftones, go
Running red, if you seen a buzz, duck your head, miss
The whip would seat enough if we had one less
And get your fist up speedy when you spot a cyclops
Or a beetle on the street or off a sidewalk
It's worth a six-pack, pass the shit back
I'm finna get blasted, we missed the first act
And Joey's chilling, yo, the hoes be grilling us
Suppose me, I don't give a shit, he's indifferent
Soon as I blink, now she wink, should be a good week
The sweetest thing of any evening is the pre-drink
The 80 of gin, my name on the list
The lanes that we switch, that's just gold
The ladies that twist, just babies in whips
A Canadian prince, that's just gold
Specifics of licks, maybe you bitches
Is crazy if you think we ain't, kid
Everyday, motherfucker