Ice (Charli Baltimore)

Uhh nigga Uhm, yeah Yo, yo, yo See I hold my head, hoes wanna 'spite me Mad, I got the Jag' but they the wifey Icey, is what my merchandise be Know I'ma star, so they over-price me Charli B'More be twice you bitch Tell you got no style by the Ice you pick Step into my cold area, polar bear wear White minking, white Lincoln, now what you thinking What? Too much Ice got you blinking? Meanwhile, Mickey sinking, what you drinking West Philly, bad bitch, dress really Ain't met a nigga with enough dough to sex really Seen everything, from king's to heavy haters Cherry gators, Tahoe in every flavor Rhymes I wrote (9's I tote 'em) And times I hold 'em I even put 9's in niggas quotas What Yeah What Yeah What what Yea what what Turn me up, though Turn me up Yo, yo, now if you don't stop Then we won't stop If you want the bottom, then I'll be on top I ain't never met a bitch that ain't ever suck a cock So if you gotta proof, I gotta have a drop, bi-atch! If you know B'More, then you know this song I'ma rip any shit, niggas throw me on While I'm reachin' mine, I ain't known you that long Fuck around, nigga, wiggle more then your rollie gone Ring too Get that nigga cream too Hit him bout once or twice, dream come true I'll give you more then a six, mansion on the beach Chanel flip flop's, satin all on ya feet Liguini for brunch, or spice and your heat So a bitch like you, can't check me from the street I'm not a girl who'll dream about living with Mase All I wanna do is get his cake, and sit on his face What what what Yeah yeah yeah Yeah yeah yeah Yeah yeah yeah Yeah, what what what, what the fuck, ughh, yo What they think, cause be Mase young, Mase be dumb They get Mase strung, there'll be no prenum But ever since Blood die, my life change Out the blue, I'm they boo, that's quite strange Now ya nice thangs, way out the price range Half these girls, don't even know my right name Though I got Rollie, mink made of coyote Love a ghetto hoe, I know she die for me You got me confused, see Cam the freak Mase never the cat, bring sand to the beach Show some that the average show-hand couldn't reach Living expenses, 50 grand a week You know me, I V-O-T, low key Platinum rollie, smoke a O-Z Baby face nigga, without no goatee 2 point 8, about to blow 3 Huh What the fuck What the fuck Yeah yeah yeah What what what Yeah yeah yeah What what what Yeah yeah yeah What what what Uh What the fuck Don't stop What the fuck We won't stop Harlem-Philly's Still bless ya forever Mase blessed forever