Oh Gee La Freestyle

[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa] Look nigga I can roll up some more weed Or order 22 more bottles of Don P My presidential Rolex shining, that's on Gs The clothes that I got on are designers from overseas I pulled up getting high, told the valet to hold my keys Hopped out, walk in that motherfucker, bought everything that I seen Niggas hating, bitches wishing they can get in position for some infiltration Taylor Gang motherfucker, don't deal with no shape shift Only real motherfuckers come up in my playlist I keep it way too real to fuck with your fake shit This the real right here, roll one up and face it [Hook: Wiz Khalifa & Juicy J] T-G-O-D Getting high, rolling weed up for e'ryone who know me T-G-O-D In the club, popping bottles, blowing weed by the O-Z T-G-O-D And you know I'm getting cash cause I'm all about that paper Give a fuck about a hater [Verse 2: Lola Monroe] T-G-O-D, peep the game from the floor seats Here for my throne, put them bitches in the nosebleeds (T-G-O-D), married to the money Fornicating with the ballers and fuck a prenup like the Kobes (T-G-O-D), educating hoes On the what, where, hows of embodying a boss, see Bitch I school sluts on the whats and the whos And the guts and the shoes and how the body of a Porsche be Now it's rock-a-bye bitches Lights out when I'm rocking my vicious Ass-to-waist ratio Giuseppe shipped out in (?), rent on a (?) (Oo-la-la-la) is the way that we rock when we doing our thing (Oo-la-la-la) is the first class high that the Taylors bring My circle, anti-square Can't compare like a (?) Ain't I there, sonning you hoes, I birth None of you hoes have earned, none of you hoes have learned Vicariously living through my shadows Got them throwing more shade than a clouded out meadow Living in a land called Lala, no Melo Maserati sitting on lips all yellow Smoked out interior like a cigarillo Now these hoes wanna hang, leave them hanging like hello (Ha ha ha ha) until my lifeless corpse in the depth of the Earth Forever stay a real bitch and only fear God When the Devil get to tempting me, I only hear God And my struggles help build me, so endear eyes Lauryn we'll forever love you, you'll forever fill hearts... With Hip Hop [Hook] [Verse 3: Juicy J] Paper, paper, paper, I'm so fucking Taylor'd Burning dope, getting ashes on the calculator Big wads in my pockets, money barely bend I'm so sincere riding in a Belly Benz Hit the booty club, drinking Sapphire gin Juicy J don't fuck with ratchet hoes, only 10s [Hook]