Marinatin'

[Chorus] We could marinate, get nice and and stack riches (But it's B.Y.O.B.) Bring your own bud, brew, and bitches Ain't no set trippin', actin' ill and don't steal, for real (You got's to chill) [Verse 1] I woke up in my Tommy Hilfiger boxers at 10 From a knock at the door, but why they at my door for? Oh, my peeps they got a half gallon, smiling My talons totaled ten one empty round from putting it down But now, my day is starting off Coca Cola and Remy Martin Some of the homeys from L.A. and Carson want to throw a private party today Threw on some Gautier and my Rolex link dressed to kill like Bernhard Goetz My squad flex like Lee Haney So it's best I keeps myself on house arrest, 'cause never know, maybe They might wind up in 429 Bauchet, locked away Plus can't keep the booty calls waiting, I'm marinating [Chorus] We could marinate, get nice and and stack riches (But it's B.Y.O.B.) Bring your own bud, brew, and bitches Ain't no set trippin', actin' ill and don't steal, for real (You got's to chill) [Verse 2] Dialed up some micehead to see what's crackin' tonight She said she just broke up with her man And since she free like Mandela, she bringin' a box of Philly pantellas A capella, I got game like Lou Piniella made sure to tell her Don't bring no fellas, cherral, girl you can braid the tweed And then you can show me how to do the pepper seed Agreed, 'cause we get down like this on a regular, loungin' Watchin' bootleged tapes, shooting jokes, your choice of imported smokes Craps and cee-lo on the patio for more chips than bingo Chips like the MGM casino Just make sure your homegirls is single, so it's popping 'Cause ain't nothing worse than fifth wheels that's cockblocking And knocking while I'm knocking talking about she ret' to go I want some of your brown sugar while I bump D'Angelo (Fo'sho) No special holiday, but sometimes just being alive is a reason for celebratin' So we mariniatin' [Chorus]x2 We could marinate, get nice and and stack riches (But it's B.Y.O.B.) Bring your own bud, brew, and bitches Ain't no set trippin', actin' ill and don't steal, for real (You got's to chill) [Verse 3] I get around like Dolby Pro Logic But running them streets too much get fools hated, incarcerated, or terminated At the house we safely intoxicated, Nonoxynol-9 lubricated Playing questions, everybody faded and now We got the ladies undressing like 1st King strippers Bouncin' on niggas balls like the LA Clippers The phone rang, my little shorty said "What you up to, boo?" Nothing, just chillin' like Bruh-Man on Martin do See only when I'm tipsy, when my words start slurring Do I get caught telling lies like Mark Fuhrman, so I'll call you later Drink was low, went to the stash and pulled out the XO The T.U.'s is down for whatever Let's run more trains than the Metrorail But y'all got to be out by two I'm getting sleepy and plus my boo is coming through So let the front door hit you where Ru Paul probably might And everybody asking what's up for tomorrow night [Chorus] We could marinate, get nice and and stack riches (But it's B.Y.O.B.) Bring your own bud, brew, and bitches Ain't no set trippin', actin' ill and don't steal, for real (You got's to chill)