Lyrics:

Feat. Young Thug

(Intro)
Throw it pass me the hookah
I may love, pass me the hookah

(Verse: Young Thug)
Tan on the place. I'mma rich nigga, got your nails on my waist
Run up on me playn, I'mma aim it at yo face
And I go for anybody, anyway, eh
I'm a rich blood, by the way
And I have swag, roll it hard I can take
Fist scared, you're like all these bitches on the bay
Don't wanna talk, man, they say I need some space
Woop, woop, woop
My new car get (woop) I just paint the car
Now I'm runnin' in my Coup
Now I'm on the top, I'mma put it on the rock
Crawl, walking hot, got all of these bitches shop
So many wither than my socks, oh
I don't wanna talk it, I must walk it
Clone me, after that a nigga still fly
I buy paints by the two, no prob

(Hook x9)
Baby, pass me the hookah

(Verse: Tyga)
Rubbin' on my chain, blowin' clowdmatic
Smoke smth wid a G and bend that ass backward
Layed back, relaax and talk mathematics
Later on we test a little sex practice
Write my name on the wall, money in the matrice
She wanna get involved, she hop on the blunt
Say wit the hookah, y'all
I tell 'er pass pack, if the shit too strong
It's all set, Mozart art on the block, so wet
I got a while on 'er and I ain't done yet
Lookin' at yo future, baby, put dwn the cigarette
Come hop on this kush jet, and take flight (yeah)
Tell 'em bitches, hmm, fuck that
You were the light in bed, I got the magic carpet
(For that dash, yes)
I'm also on, I got two oceans on me,
Big homie, Young Thug, look up
Go roll in Rolls Royce, so shawty

(Hook x9)
Baby, pass me the hookah

(Verse: Tyga)
Been frank, baddies in the Benz wagon
You know she want a ride home, hop on the bandwagon
I got the chain sagg, you know that life lavish
Lifestyles like this gon' need Magnums
Pass, baby, welcome to rich class, baby
You all Maybeline, like you new Celine
At the mansion, lean cars on Sheen
You white girl, but black girl, get the fly team
It's verified, they ain't know it's sea level
Water eyes don't cry, inhale and breathe regular
My baby on it, higher than crack of dawn it
By these shake figure eight like Picasso draw ya
Oh, yes, I'm winning, bling clinging, ring blingin'
Like like, but no reason. Lets get closer, closed in
Remove yo clothes, we close friends,
Don't get yo smoke in, O.G. Oakland
Shout out Oakland

(Hook x9)
Baby, pass me the hookah