Automatic
Pull up in some shit that's automatic
Hit-hit-hit, hit you with some shit that's automatic
All that hating must be bad for your spirit
You hating bad, I'm getting a bag, look in the mirror
That's why I'm where the money at
Call me once and ain't no coming back
All these bitches wanna see me dead
That's why I'm in a Porsche, not a Pontiac
