Cory Gunz Mr. Fresh

1, 2 buckle my shoe, unlaced ears, lil mama what it do (what u mean?)

What it do to fit you on those jeans,

On your thighs so tight it’s like your hips can’t breathe

I’m in the spot with my wrist on freeze

N a couple of thugs with a grip on squeeze

Pair of champs on, I get my limp on

Like I get my pimp on play you just bench warm

Summertime my louis flips on

Before I make u wana get your tip on

U said lil ron’names his own

He keeps it fly, I don’t knw wat your mans on

See I less see once we get our benz on

U step on my nikes ices with your chin zone

I’m in this game just tryin to get my friends on

And all you blockers get defended

Now ya’ll you tell me…

Is the fitted low? YES

Money low? NO

Ice Bright? BRIGHT

Kicks tight? 4 SHO

Game tight? 4 SHO

Haters see me? YES

Never none less lil homie just call me Mr. Fresh

Just call me MR. FRESH [x4]

They like why u gotta be so fly?

Homie I got it from the street no lie

Between me n u shorty I see bare sheets

It must be in opposite the dead sleep

See me pull up in the red jeep

See me hop out with the red sneaks

See me pull up in the blue coup

Rims match the kicks blue boots

See me pull up in some green clean

Prob rockin a pair of mean greens

But you don’t know I get green seems

The US prob in the same dream

Heavy glin I make my limousines lean

Ain’t no 1 ons we known to intervien

But I swear if I looked u in the face

Itll b like I took a picture in your face

Or rather like Tyson hit u in the face

U waitin to take my shit now this a taste

Now ya’ll you tell me…

Is the fitted low? YES

Money low? NO

Ice Bright? BRIGHT

Kicks tight? 4 SHO

Game tight? 4 SHO

Haters see me? YES

Never none less lil homie just call me Mr. Fresh

Just call me MR. FRESH [x4]

You wanna know what I’m about? paper

The way u put your money let ya mouth make-up

I make ya lil mama shell break-up

I’m just a lil fresh spouse taker

Ya sleepin on me homie better wake up

Ya girl just spotted me comin outta jacob

Her thoughts are probably that I got my cake up

My wieghts up I ain’t gotta play tough

Pimpin that’s just how I’m livin’

Chill in spots u wich u could live in

Sippin’ spinnin’ women linen

We grindin’ shinin’ gripin’ winnin’

Names exchanged digits are givin’

Slackin my mack nim slippin’ my pimin’

Gonna splurge like this shit is tradition

Motha herbs got the chips

Now ya’ll you tell me…

Is the fitted low? YES

Money low? NO

Ice Bright? BRIGHT

Kicks tight? 4 SHO

Game tight? 4 SHO

Haters see me? YES

Never none less lil homie just call me Mr. Fresh

Just call me MR. FRESH [x4]