MAKING THE BEAT by DJA

Intro: WaleUhh

Wild shit, wild shit

Ha

Huh, random shit, like my man say

Verse 1: Wale (and Travis Porter)Look, I was ridin' through wherever like my situation better

Bet they make amends when they see you makin' money

Romanelli custom, make it (buy it)

Haters (priceless), a hundred for the butters

I don't be with squares ('less I'm sittin' on my luggage)

See that's a little different, Damier was a cover

(Now won't you tell me somethin' 'bout the joint that you was thumpin'

Yeah Ralph you know the girl that always askin' 'bout some money)

Yeah, yeah, man cut that talk I ain't ever spendin' nothin'

But some gas and some motha****in' rubbers (man)

Check it on the dash, 120 out speedin'(shit)

You play phone tag a minute, was tryna see it

Told her we can be low, pinot and rollin' weed up

(Did you get her on cam?)No brag, but Tarantino

Now you know, so we know, told me I can keep it

(Well nigga, did you smash?)I smashed

(But did you eat it?)

Hook -WaleTook her to the room make her bust it wide open

Killed that pussy, died with his eyes open

Killed that pussy, died with his eyes open

Killed that pussy, died with his eyes open

Man, took her to the room make her bust it wide open

Killed that pussy, died with his eyes open

Killed that pussy, died with his eyes open

Killed that pussy, died with his eyes open

Verse 2: Travis Porter (and Wale)Hol' up, (wait, chill let it marinate)

White girl with a booty call it carrot cake

Black girl with a booty call it double fudge

Brought my nigga along, we havin' double fun

Killed that pussy, died with his eyes open

Hopped out the pussy fly with my fly open

You hopped out the pussy fly with your fly open?

With her legs in the sky like the suicides open

Suicide doors, suicide whores

We all up at the crib (it's a quarter past four)

Chillin', (smokin'), drinkin'

Like Jay-Z off-key I'm singin'

OK I met this girl named Sara

Did she pull up in the Panamera?

Nah, that's another broad. Who?This another broad. Her?

(Little yellow tail, but I ain't hit it raw)

Verse 3: Wale (and Travis Porter)(Waddup bro?)Nothin' much Joe

(Tell me about the bri-noad you caught up at your last show)

She was playin' hin-ard to get it (I dig it)

(You sweat it?)A little, blame it all on the liquor

Shit I was so faded couldn't keep my eyes open (right)

Playin' eye to eye 'til she poke it out for me (right)

Forty-five later she was jumpin' all on me

It was on (If it's on, then put on for the homie)

Ok next time I got ya I just caught in the moment (bet)

When I bring friends in her friends will get focused (word)

Dogs will be dogs, shones will be shonin

Kitten call me then it die with eyes open