Letras:
Banda Pop Show

Aye now pop champagne Tell them hoes that I'm in this bitch with Lil Wayne We got Young Money, we got old money We got Jay-z, Beyonce show money We got

lonely on top You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got When it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop You sell records

sleep until the sun comes up Did you hear those first two songs, they were fucking tough And the band is not going to stop until the cops show up So

I slept, I felt him go {Loop of Erik Satie, as in Pet Shop Boys' Jack The Lad} New York, New York, temperature's droppin' The band's out shoppin', not stoppin' 'til ears pop

Surpassing everything Time catches all of us Surpassing everything Time catches all of us Surpassing everything Tents pop up cuz the show's in town And

see me, invisible. I old school like Biblical, Futuristic next level, Never on that typical Will I stop I never know... I ain't gonna stop until I do (don't stop it) I ain't gonna quit should I show

, scream Hands up in the air two times, here we go You gotta punch it three times, on the beat Whoo Four times in the air, both hands Whooooo Pop your head, pop

- jump off, jump off The clothes - come off, come off The Hermaze, Apple B's, and the so on, so on (yeah) Let your waist pop (pop), when the bass knock

Gun Yellow Clip Fruity Gat Shoot It Back Crome Band Bitch Niggas What You Doing With That Take 'em Back Make 'em Pop A Bunch Of Pills Make A Bitch