Julius Erving (feat. Gucci Mane)

You got them birds I want a few, first I'm a drop a deuce

Homeboy want twelve, I want thirty, boy that's forty-two

Call that pick, that James Worthin, zone six, (Julius Erving)

Set my dunk on (Julius Erving) ride through the six like George Gervin

See the feet, on the fleet, white cleats on an athlete,

Tell em paper attack me, damn that thing look nasty

Damn this thing a classic, everybody starin

Pull up in a chevy, put your cutlass in a casket

Simple dunk can't catch me, I'm dammit twisted backwards

Candy painted sixes, like them rims just did a backflip

My rims just did a backflip,

Dem lips on my rims so big they fucked round and did a front flip

The way I got my dunk flipped, way I got the motor flipped

Punch it then the front lift, whamming at the light belt

Slammin at the light self, pull up in a white dunk

White guts, white rims

73 chevy, but it look like a dump truck

Trunk like a concert, that mean that bitch loud as fuck

Everything kitted up, that boy digital

Hundred thousand dollars in the chevy, that was pitiful

Hardwood floors in that bitch look like my grandma's house

White on white leather my seats remind me of my grandma's couch

Trunk having a heart attack, when I'm doin a summersault

Michael Jackson twenty-six inches, they doin the moonwalk

Sunday I ain't bumpin no rap, I'm bumpin Al Green

Monday I ain't sellin no white, I'm sellin all green

Yo Gotti I'm the king, no soon as I hit the scene

I'm watchin (colors), and then I watch my plasma screen