Bars (RIP T)

Bars, bars, fire, fire

Tell your girl I won't retire

I got bars, bars, fuckin' cars

Aeroplanes, deep massage

Bars, bars, fire, fire

Tell your girl I won't retire

Woo

Here I am

Flyin' down the street like Superman

And I won't do it but my best friend can

I won't do it but my best friend can

Got them blue jeans, got them at Costco

She hates that blue cheese, but loves tobasco

But everybody knows that I'm your boss, yo

But everybody knows that I'm the boss though

He know I'm gonna write the words, I'm gonna play the strings

And don't forget, I still fuckin' sing

Even on the street, I was a fuckin' king

Even on the street, I was a fuckin' king

I got bars, bars, fuckin' cars

Aeroplanes, deep massage

Bars, bars, fire, fire

Tell your girl I won't retire

Woo-hoo, Tokyo

Driftin' down the street in my sleep, go roll

Rollin' down my window, I'll let everybody know

That I bought this car with my puff as dough

Yeah, my best friends don't need a wine glass

They love the goon sack, up here it's all class

But everybody knows that they can shake their ass

But everybody knows that they can shake their ass

I got bars, bars, fuckin' cars

Aeroplanes, deep massage

Bars, bars, fire, fire

Tell your girl I won't retire

I got a feelin' I'll be fine, left it all behind

In the house up in the hill that I once called mine

I left the keys in the van, from sixty-nine

Till the motherfuckin' madhouse (empty)

Bars

I got bitches

Bitches

Bitches

And I got

I got bars, bars, fuckin' cars

Aeroplanes, deep massage

Bars, bars, fire, fire

Tell your girl I won't retire

Woo

Here I am

Flyin' down the street like Superman

And I won't do it but my best friend can

I won't do it but my best friend can

RIP to the beat