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New Bugatti (feat. P. Diddy)

We at the condo, let's have pool party

Ain't no space in the garage, I got a new BuggatiI heard a young nigga had to sell his soul

For a new Bugatti and a ton of gold

Stepping in the crib, I gotta pat you down

So old school, still in my cap and gown

The lawn manicured and it's well lit

Talking whole sale, each 12 6

Order crab legs with the heavy butter

357 perpetrator stumbles

Shots fired, and I fear the worst

Gift wrap his ass, December 1st

Underneath the tree, can a nigga sleep?

Yea I went and spent a hundred G's on a VOne point five for the transport

Car got a letter B all on the asshole

Fuck a Swiss account, I got it all cash

If it's any problem, you can bring 'em all back

Know how a hustler move, do what he gotta do

Fuck the prosecutor, tell him the Bugatti's new

One point five settle all these civil suits

Platinum a million time, record in a silver suitThe whole city screaming where that boy Diddy at

Blue Yankee fitted, boy I brought the city back

I'm a Harlem nigga, I'm a Ciroc boy

Fuck a penthouse, I bought the block boy

Bought a Vacheron in London, costs a million pounds

Fuck a chick all in the shower like I'm trying to drown

Turn my back just like a king, I let her wipe me down

I'm Sean John down to my jeans, how you like me now

Hating ass niggas not my type of crowd

Gotta get a fade before I wear the crown

I hope you brought some money since you talking live

We sipping Blue Dot and we smoking loud

I scoop a new broad just to knock her down

I get a new broad when she not around

Fuck a phone bill, bitch I'm worth a bill

She wanna feel the rush, I give her sugar hill

Songwriters

WIlliam Roberts, Sean CombsPublished by

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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