I'm coolin' with da homies
I'm coolin' with da homies

Volcanoes on my chest, just like I'm Kim West
I don't need silicone to show rappers I'm the best

I keep my chains low (woo), they droppin' to the floor
They're really, really, really low, they're droppin' to the floor, uh
I don't need gin and juice, I got a caffe latte (coffee)
Glaciers meltin' all around, but they ain't gonna drown me
I'll get some frostbite (woo), but won't let it crank my style (nah)
I got these fresh beats, everybody tryna copy
They say that I talk too fast
I don't really talk too fast
I don't think I talk too fast
I don't think I talk too, talk too, talk too fast
Everybody blowin' up my phone
Everybody wants this cash
Everybody's soundin' like blah-blah-blah-blah

I told mama that I ain't gonna come home
I'm coolin' with da homies
I told papa to mow the lawn on his own
I'm coolin' with da homies
We roll up, we get turnt
We go gangster style on everyone
I told mama that I ain't gonna come home
I'm coolin' with da homies

C-c-c-coolin' with da homies
I'm c-c-c, I'm coolin' with da homies
I'm c-c-c, I'm coolin' with da homies, I'm
So tell my mama, I'm coolin' with da homies, uh

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, WORDS & MUSIC A DIV OF BIG DEAL MUSIC LLC
Writer(s): Rami Yacoub, Savan Kotecha