White lines, pretty baby, tattoos.
Don't know what they mean,
They're special just for you.
White palms, baking powder on the stove,
Cooking up a dream, turning diamonds into snow.
I feel you, pretty baby, feel me.
Turn it up hot, loving you is free.
I like it down, like it down way low,
But you already know that,
You already know.
Come on down to Florida,
I got something for ya.
We could see the kilos or the Keys, baby, oh ya.
Guns in the summertime,
Drink a Cherry Cola lime.
Prison isn't nothing to me if you'll be by my side.
Yayo, yayo, yayo
And all the dope friends
Yayo, yayo, yayo
Zoomin' my miles in gold hoops.
You like your little baby like you like your drinks, cool.
White lines, pretty daddy, go ski it.
You snort it like a champ, like the winter we're not in.
Come on down to Florida,
I got something for ya.
We could see the kilos or the Keys, baby, oh ya.
Guns in the summertime,
Drink a Cherry Cola lime.
Prison isn't nothing to me if you'll be by my side.
Yayo, yayo, yayo
And all the dope fiends
Yayo, yayo, yayo
We could get high in Miami, dance the night away.
People never die in Miami, that's what they all say.
(You believe me, don't you baby?)
Come on down to Florida,
I got something for ya.
We could see the kilos or the Keys, baby, oh ya.
Guns in the summertime,
Drink a Cherry Cola lime.
Prison don't mean nothing to me if you'll be by my side.
Yayo, yayo, yayo
All the Floridians like
Yayo, yayo, yayo
All the Colombians like
Yayo, yayo, yayo
And all my girlfriends
Yayo, yayo, yayo
That's how we do it, like
Mm-mm, pretty baby.
White lines, pretty baby,
Gold teeth, pretty baby,
Dance the night away.
