A.R.A.B. lyrics

[Verse 1: Paxquiao]
Old ratchet ass b*tch ridin' 'round with a forty in her purse
Ridin' top down on the vert
She gon' hold it down, she at work
In the club with the fire under her skirt
You know I love that
I'ma pick up the phone and shawty pull up where the club at
She can make it clap and keep a strap and she gon' bust that
She down, yes, she sit at the house and she hold down them pounds, yes
And that sh*t get wet wet, make a n*gga drown, yes

[Verse 2: Tokyo Vanity]
Pray to God that I never let a lame n*gga f*ck me and duck me
'Cause I'ma send them shots where his dome be
Probably give some play to his homie
Ain't never sucked no di*k but I let a n*gga dome me (You dig?)
This ass real fat, sit on my pack and my purse
I got my forty and this scale and this pack
And we all in the club, b*tch, I smuggled in them straps
And I came with twelve n*ggas and they're screamin' out, "Slatt"

[Verse 3: Paxquiao]
Ayy, young n*gga ridin' 'round with lot of blue hundreds
Blue cheese, forty on me, dare a n*gga do somethin'
Shawty love me but she don't trust me
All this money that I'm throwin' make 'em wanna f*ck me
I ball like rugby
Southside sh*t, got these n*ggas scared 'cause my side shot
Hangin' out the window with that fire sh*t
Gang bangin', twisted fingers all up in they face
Chain swinging, I ain't thinkin' 'bout how much I spent today
[Verse 4: Tokyo Vanity]
Have my money when I land, b*tch, I ain't here for all that talkin'
Got busy in the Beamer, if you fidget then he chalk you
Gettin', big, dawg, should've never barked
Keep a pint of that red, my n*gga Lenny call it Clarky
My daddy smoke that white, b*tch, we call it Kelly Clarkson
I heard you on that Lizzy, you a J, b*tch, get to walkin'
Old bum ass n*gga
I finesse you out them racks, old dumb ass n*gga
Cheddar bob ho, why you got that gun ass n*gga
You ain't even in no smoke, got 'em for fun ass n*gga

[Verse 5: Paxquiao]
I'm just a ratchet ass n*gga, love that hood sh*t
I make her go brazy, say she hate me, give her good di*k
Freak ho, shoot a n*gga ass like a freak, though
No you cannot have my kids, b*tch, but I can nut up on them cheeks, though

[Verse 6: Tokyo Vanity]
I never been the type to compete with no b*tch
While y'all was gettin' flips, b*tch, I had dreams of gettin' rich
Ain't goin' back and forth with no b*tch that's switchin' fits
Who you with? You an opp, b*tch, our hoes be clit to clit
Pray to God that I never let a lame n*gga f*ck me
You a dusty, don't touch me
Talkin' all that cap, I'ma have to call your bluff, B
Finesse you out that guap but you still can't f*ck me
[Outro: Paxquiao & Tokyo Vanity]
On Piru (b*tch)
He trippin'
I told him, "Do not f*ck a cheap ho, you hear me?"
These b*tches mad, slatt