Four 12s lyrics

[Verse 1: Chuck]
Four 12 Kickers like it's '94
Pop the trunk on 'em like you stuffing dope
Move a million units, I can see to it
Get the boulevard juking like a thick booty
Uh, uh, uh, do it
Geo Tracker rap, trapping out of the Suzuki
Far as that goes know exactly what I'm doing
In a pair of Cartiers and them Patrick Ewings
Droptop with a chow chow puppy
And my girl in a bikini top breaking down the dutch
Way she roll it, could've sworn we was going bowling
If I can't wear shorts, then a n*gga not going
Triple gold rims, not stolen
Twan got five cell phones on him, how you want it?
Call me up if you want that plug
If not, don't trip, we'll get back up

[Hook: Chuck]
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
We'll get back up
Uh, uh, uh, uh, what
Don't trip, we'll get back up

[Verse 2: Da$h]
I'm the coldest, stack it til a n*gga can't fold it
Loaded with a b*tch from Beverly, she say she rolling
Twisting up a blunt, Sprite I got a four in
And I fill her three holes like I was bowling (fa sho!)
Two texts on my phone by the time a n*gga dipping
Tripping cause I f*cked up my Jordan One stitching
Faded delinquent brought up on hustling, pimping
These messages get ignored if it ain't about no digits
What's the deal dog? I'm tryna touch a couple mil dog
f*ck a ounce, I'm tryna see how much a field costs
I'm Sam Rothstein clean, grab the shakers
In LA for months, still won't bet on the Lakers
Head crack, run it back, what you saying
Holding bank, you sucka n*ggas never playing
I'm getting head while I hit my bud
I'm in her mouth and then I'm out, we'll get back up
[Hook]

[Verse 3: Retch]
I said baby girl I do drugs, smoke dope and sell dope
b*tch I'm from BC, I bust flexes off that cellphone
Like muthaf*ck a wiretap
n*gga owe me money cross the country, tell him wire that
Fire that
Fat bleezy full of thrax, loud pack, only smoking killa ho
Ran in Macys and copped the killa Lo fly sh*t
Aviators on, I'm such a pilot
I do my own stunts lil' n*gga don't try this, ugh
My old b*tch a dub, she got a new n*gga
Happy for 'em both, I just made a few figures
Off the muthaf*ckin' trap though, walking through the front
Bet I'm leaving out the back door
as*h*le - called that on the regular
Rolling keisha never smoking regular
Never bruh, never us, only smoking that woosah
Get you high enough, high enough to go salute God
Yea that's death n*gga, rolling cess n*gga