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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
White lines, pretty baby, tattoos Don't know what they mean, they're special, just for you White palms, baking powder on the stove Cooking up a dream, turning diamonds into snow
I feel you, pretty baby, feel me Turn it up hot, loving you is free I like it down, like it down way low But you already know that You already know
Come on down to Florida I got something for ya We could see the kilos on the keys, baby, oh ya Gourds in the summertime Chic-a-Cherry Cola lime Prison isn't nothing to me if you'll be by my s-
Yayo, yayo, yayo And all the dope fiends Yayo, yayo, yayo
Zoom in my miles and gold hoops You like your little baby like you like your drinks, cool White lines, pretty daddy, go skiing You snort it like a champ, like the winner when I'm in it...
Come on down to Florida I got something for ya We could see the kilos on the keys, baby, oh ya Gourds in the summertime Chic-a-Cherry Cola lime Prison isn't nothing to me if you'll be by my s-
Yayo, yayo, yayo And all the dope fiends Yayo, yayo, yayo
We could get high in Miami or dance the night away Even when I die in Miami, that's what they all say (You believe me, don't you baby?)
Yayo, yayo, yayo And all the dope fiends Yayo, yayo, yayo
Yayo, yayo, yayo And all the Floridians say Yayo, yayo, yayo All the Columbians say Yayo, yayo, yayo And all my girlfriends Yayo, yayo, yayo
That's how I do it Come on, pretty baby White lines, pretty baby Gold teeth, pretty baby Dance the night away
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