CHORUS:
Why you hating on a nigga getting guap? (Boy Stop)
You mad cause I’m fresh and you not. (Boy Stop)
Every whip I got it cost a couple blocks. (Boy Stop)
Every chick I fuck you know she top knock. (Boy Stop)

Tiny Teazzy:
Stop It, Your bitch is in my cockpit/
Got me all up in her conscious/
Smoking this fungus, lean and a Sunkist/
Boy Stop, you don’t really want it (naw)/
Yeah Drop Top, T-Top, Pumped Up Reeboks/
My bitch is a diva, got them bands from Reba/
Rolling Wiz Khalifa, Been fresh as yester-evening (yeah)/
Like Sir Lucious Left Foot/
Red bottoms, both footed/
Your girl suck me up, sleuth-footed/
Two winded, A-Fitted, Snap Blended/
Make your hoe get silly, on this Kush pack villain/
Six pack of Ciroc still chilling/
I’m zooted, Range piece or ice linked/
Whip game isotone, pyrex and oil based/
Let the rims foliate/
Boy Stop, Boy Stop, Boy Stop

CHORUS (2x)

KlearJOfficial:
Fresher than I wanna be, Ashy as I gotta be/
Your girl be all up on a G, she nasty as she wanna be/
To much money up on my mind, like Louis made a cap for me/
Had to call my niggaz to see what kind of cap they had for me/
Certified weird boy, think you oughta chill boy/
Before my niggaz start poppin out them nines, milli mills boy (yeah)/
No talking homie, we bout that action/
No time for relaxing, making that mula, that’s what’s happening/
Tis is the season/
Certified the reason/
The crowd wilding and going ham like every weekend/
In the club they showing love, smoking and geeking/
See them haters I’m passing by’em, I ain’t speaking/
Fits on me cost a little bit, so who the shit/
I do it for the hoes cause I know they digging it/
Truly immaculate/
Like I hoped fresh up out the drop/
You think you fucking with me Boy Stop

CHORUS (2x)

Grand Champ:
Boy Stop (Boy Stop), Certified we in here/
And if I had to grade these niggaz, I would give them three F’s/
They faking, fronting, flexing man, these niggaz don’t posed to be here/
Got a brand new watch and a brand new chain and a motherfucking rock in my ear/
Sit back drinking my beer/
Turnt up to the fifth gear/
Niggaz living raw with no fear/
This shit going down this year/
So get this through your earlobes/
When I bust this cigarillo/
Your main chick lapped on my dick/
She a freak and that’s to Kilo/
Known to keep a strap, and a A-Town Fitted cap/
For these groupies who approach me and they wanna give me dap/
And got bags around your eyes, it look like you could use a nap/
When we hit the DoubleTree and hit them sheets, girl it’s a wrap/
They say Simple Shit, make hits, go the whole club snapping like this bitch/
They say Simple Shit, make hits, go the whole club snapping like this bitch/

CHORUS (2x)
End