[Chorus:]
[Wiz Khalifa:]
Up in this bitch, and we all faded,
Fuck 'bout a bitch, no, we don't save her,
Nothing to a boss, do my own thing,
It's money over hoes, no, I'm no stranger.
Want more bounce, we got more ounces,
Want more bounce, we got more ounces,
Want more bounce, we got more ounces,
Want more bounce, we got more ounces.
[Problem:]
Gin and drugs, gin and drugs,
Gin and drugs, we got gin and drugs,
Gin and drugs, gin and drugs,
Gin and drugs, we got gin and drugs,
We got!
[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa]
Only on gin and them drugs, I walked in, in the club,
About three of them, dawg, I'm not kiddin'
When I tell you if you came with your bitch,
Then it's the end of my car, push-start the engine.
Let's start from the beginning
With a young nigga from the 'Burgh,
Smokin' weed, gettin' money, fuck what you heard,
Know they hate 'cause I'm flyer than I ever been,
High off a medicine,
Bitch bad, her ass fat, I'll probably let her in,
Ball so fuckin' hard I need a letterman,
Know a couple niggas that I'm better than.
Pussy, I don't sweat it or the money 'cause I get it,
Taylor Gang on top, just remember that I said it,
Fuck this nigga bitch, grab my shit, then I jetted.
[Chorus:]
[Wiz Khalifa:]
Up in this bitch, and we all faded,
Fuck 'bout a bitch, no, we don't save her,
Nothing to a boss, do my own thing,
It's money over hoes, no, I'm no stranger.
Want more bounce, we got more ounces,
Want more bounce, we got more ounces,
Want more bounce, we got more ounces,
Want more bounce, we got more ounces.
[Problem:]
Gin and drugs, gin and drugs,
Gin and drugs, we got gin and drugs,
Gin and drugs, gin and drugs,
Gin and drugs, we got gin and drugs,
We got!
[Verse 2: Problem]
Baby, it's fuck day, who wanna bang?
Even though I had some, right 'fore I came.
It's lit though!
Girl, you ain't fuckin', what you here for?
Got at least three zips rolled, all ready,
Wiz brought another jar with him,
Gin and drugs got me feelin' like a car hit him,
'Round 6 a.m once I hit my DM,
Didn't have a rubber so she got to feel this skin,
Money stacks stack high, bruh, this don't bend,
What's up with your friend, biatch?!
Ho, yeah-yeah-yeah!
Feelin' like Mitch when the light hit him,
Married to the money, let the rice hit him.
[Chorus:]
[Wiz Khalifa:]
Up in this bitch, and we all faded,
Fuck 'bout a bitch, no, we don't save her,
Nothing to a boss, do my own thing,
It's money over hoes, no, I'm no stranger.
Want more bounce, we got more ounces,
Want more bounce, we got more ounces,
Want more bounce, we got more ounces,
Want more bounce, we got more ounces.
[Problem:]
Gin and drugs, gin and drugs,
Gin and drugs, we got gin and drugs,
Gin and drugs, gin and drugs,
Gin and drugs, we got gin and drugs,
We got!