Pill – Everybody Lookin lyrics

[Intro]
Everybody’s lookin’, if you’re jealous turn around
The AMG kit keeps us closer to the ground
We’re gettin’ good grip from the 50 series tires
The Alpine’s bumpin’, but I need the volume higher

[Hook]
Everybody’s lookin’, if you’re jealous turn around
The AMG kit keeps us closer to the ground
We’re gettin’ good grip from the 50 series tires
The Alpine’s bumpin’, but I need the volume higher
Everybody’s looking, if you’re jealous turn around
The AMG kit keeps us closer to the ground
We’re gettin’ good grip from the 50 series tires
The Alpine’s bumpin’, but I need the volume higher

[Verse 1]
Aye! P-I double L, fresher than a ma’fucka
Bad bitches, no dresses in this ma’fucka
Blowin’ loud, no stressing’ in this ma’fucka
Big banks, no pressure on this ma’fucka
Professional when I do this shit
Always dressed in the newest shit
Gucci, Prada and Louis shit
Leave the pussy all ruined, bitch
Uh – I’m goin’ HAM in this motherfucker
Peanut butter, I’mma jam in this motherfucker
The bass steady kickin’ and the Armor All shines
Pretty little chicken and I bet she is a dime
Feel like I’m goin’ fishin’, your bitch is on my line
Like a death row inmate’s teeth, I’mma grind
Like a scale I’mma balance out
This money shit and this candid drop
Guaranteed when them bands come out
Them big booty hoes, their panties’ll drop
Okay then… I’m throwin’ bands in this motherfucker
So many hoes I need a van in this motherfucker

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Aye! This that straight drop shit, shorty
Bad bitches pullin’ up in a 6-40
One rollin’ up the weed, one bitch snortin’
Master P, I double L, yeah, I been ’bout it
Experience what made me, 80 feet they raised me
Fourth quarter got paid, G
From the one to the three with your lady
Uh – I’m Mike Vickin’ in this motherfucker
Dog-ass nigga trickin’ in this motherfucker
Aye! It ain’t trickin’ if you got it, though
A lot of flow, it’s like cocaina when I record
A lot of dope, I done seen them servin’ beside the road
‘Cause I am clean, they hatin’, out of sight, they explode
Bitch! Take the roof up off this ma’fucka
I’m turnin’ up, I’m the truth up in this ma’fucka
Got some niggas that’ll shoot up in this ma’fucka
We ’bout this paper, gettin’ loot all in this ma’fucka

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Volume loud, blowin’ loud with a six pack
Got the glock tucked if they want the chit-chat
Got a chopper on my side for the get-back
Guaranteed they think they clean, but their kit wack
Six pack on the stomach, make ‘em vomit
Blood on his teeth whenever a nigga dumpin’
Tried to warn you ’bout this weather
Fuck around and get pneumonia
When the bullets start to rain
This ain’t Southern California, bitch
Stay strapped like a velcro tennis shoe
Got a bad bitch that will replenish you
Mortal Kombat, nigga, I’ll finish you
Ignorin’ messages askin’ me what I’m finna do
Been a fool with it, been a motherfuckin’ monster
Leave a nigga’s ass stinkin’ in his trash by the dumpster
Got some little bitty niggas livin’ fast that’ll dump ya
It’s the #1 rule, get cash as a youngster

[Hook]