C-LOS

C-LOS - Fitted Cap lyrics

[Hook x2: C-Los]

Rock my P. Millers comin [?] in my fitted cap

Rock my P. Millers comin [?] in my fitted cap

(Oh) in my fitted cap (whoa) in my fitted cap

All in the club pullin hoes in my fitted cap

[Verse: C-Los]

Im ducked in my fitted ride trucks wit the windows tinted

Guttar Boyz in it I dont think you dudes serious you's a scrimmage

You see me step out wit P. Miller rims and all the tennis (uh-huh)

In a Saints on a fitted jeans blingin and its drippin

Oh, you boys playin I've been token you boys lame

And I hang around guerrillas its ziped I was thousand

Ah man I bank mines and if you yappin thats firin

I left em solder way yea the bullets them rap titan (oh)

I keep my rim low, even it can took it to the right

When I turn it to back that means C-Los is bout to fight

But I leanin to the left, cuz I sip that purple Sprite

So Imma, lay like its a Spooner come catchin Mobile Sike

Yea nigga like me, I got a plan to rival

Cuz I got a lot of platinum like placks on P walls

Oh Lord you know C-Los is ready, ducked in my fitted cap

Ride in my fitted cap, high in my fitted

[Hook x2: C-Los]

[Verse: Romeo]

Im some special you never seen in my fitted cap money green (okay)

[?] on the jersey get it cap dawg master teen (you know)

20s on Cutlets 26s on the limousines

Son of a hustler I had to sell nice cream (sell what)

3.8s when Im goin on a date (ah-ha)

5.8s duckin Lil' Rome I dont want you in my face (yea)

And I feel some kinda beef I just turn it to the back

Wick it straight in the eyes then make it lean back (yea)

[Verse: Young V]

Hat to the side I might be young but Im a beats wit it (oh)

Freaky like a searcher starched up and lean and freeze in it (oh)

So I can ball in it (oh) hit them ball in it (oh)

Throw my soldier cap on them watchin 3 [?] in it (oh)

Im a rich boy I aint gotta steal shorty (oh)

Tell that lil rich no cops freakin chip shorty (oh)

I do some sacks homie (oh) crannies look like Shaq homie

Represent Guttar Music the hood got my back homie

[Hook x2: C-Los]

[Verse: Lil' D]

Im ducked in my fitted posted up in the cut

I dont dance in my fitted I just throw my hood up

Tryna knuck if you buck we gon catch it to the gut

Cuz Im gone off that drank tryna find a chicken cup but

Lean wit it, rock wit it, yea I keep my glock wit

Beefin I pop wit it, possibly due drop gimme (oh)

24s when I roll and my pockets full of doe

In the club pullin hoes in my fitted cap

She wanna see my grill the Guttaboy of da South

I dont gotta spit game I spit diamonds in my mouth

Yea, Im state to state I know ya boys dont hate

So I keep some that'll make ya click jigglelate

Yup, Im so T.R.U.

A red fitted but the diamonds in my chain so B.L.U.

And yall boys know what we do

We the proof that keep a lil 22 the Master rims on the Coupe boy boy

[Hook x2: C-Los]

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