Itchin’ lyrics

by

Kanye West


[Intro: Rick Ross]
[?]

[Verse: Rick Ross]
I whip my heron with milk
All my boxers be silk
You pus*y n*ggas should chill
We keep the city on tilt
I put on for my wolves down for my area code
We hit a lick, you go to prison -- gotta bury your dope
Respected highly, my n*gga
Joey i.e., my n*gga
So high with my n*ggas
Selassie ahi, my n*gga
I recite only lethal, yet I'm labelled a poet
I get high in the cathedral and I feel so important
How I'm popping them bands, you man just won't stop
I f*cked her in France, came out on top
If she wanted a bite, if she named the spot
But me being the boss, I took her straight to Wingstop

[Chorus: Future]
They itching, they itching, they itching for that paper
My fingers, they itching, they itching for that paper
Riding 'round the city and I got that calculator
I'm a motherf*cking monster when it come to getting that paper
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