Pedal To The Medal Lyrics By Wiz Khalifa
Cool
Blue ice
Things never looked this nice
It's the life we live, it's the price we pay
Four hundred a zip, Imperial Rosé
Black diamonds and all of my whips timeless
Vow to never break your heart or a promise
I got us
Ain't a showoff, just being honest
You wanna sip mimosas, I'll pour 'em
Take a trip, we can blow a few dollars
Other bitches, you heard about 'em
But you're moving forward and never backwards
Cop shorty a quarter, let her roll it up for practice
Love to role play, you studying to be an actress
What the haps is? I'ma call you later
Then I'll fall through, maybe we can all get faded
And I'm one hundred, them others tryin' to fake it
Self made G, millionaire in the making
Boss of my team, bringin' home the bacon
Your **** fallin' off, you need a replacement
Face it, now you drunk and your heart's racing
Let me buy you a drink, better yet, a bottle
Girl, you look good, you remind me of a model
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Blue ice
So it's off to the crib, girly gon' follow
Pedal to the metal, everything full throttle
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, uh
The money come in, the money go
The same seem to pertain to them corny hoes
So I keep it G
Continually stack this paper while all them bitches chase me
Won't be a net for your safety
Bitch can't hold her self down
Then she bound to drizzown
We party in Vegas
Smokin' Pina Colada papers
Travel the world, people know what our face is
Waitress bringin' 'em by the cases
For me and my real ****, we not in the Matrix
I'm talkin' plane shit, that shit you have to join the gang with
Can probably make you leave your man
For first class living, taking pictures in the sand
Hundred-thousand-dollar whips, shopping trips to Japan
So you rollin' if you know like I know
Them **** don't go where I go
Gangster
Let me buy you a drink, better yet, a bottle
Girl, you look good, you remind me of a model
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
So it's off to the crib, girly gon' follow
Pedal to the metal, everything full throttle
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Okay, mami, I fucks with you, borderline stuck with you
I roll up, hit the airport, and stunt with you
Count all this bread, maybe split a cut with you
No respect for **** who smoke blunts with you
All wins, no loss
Big house, mowed lawn
No lease, owned cars
Straight work, I'm my own boss
Let me buy you a drink, better yet, a bottle
Girl, you look good, you remind me of a model
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, 501 young
So it's off to the crib, girly gon' follow
Pedal to the metal, everything full throttle
Better get rid of them fucking geeks you with
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Fly with the gang, uh
Yeah, pain and paper planes
Uh, should never be the same
Bitches slippin' off they wedding rings
**** broke 'cause we've been gettin' all the change
