STS - Cliche lyrics

[Hook:] Yeah, ho Yeah, ho Yeah, ho Yeah, ho I'm a groupie f**ing, liquor sipping, weed smoking rapper [They?] do it for the love, it's the money that I'm after I told ya'll co*ks**ers once before that I'm a ba*tard Mother f** what he say, I'm your favorite cliche [Verse STS] Verses full of f**ery, still can't nobody f** with me I'm all about my cash you cannot get enough from me Gucci stitches in my jeans, this the lap of luxury STS on 85, ho I'm sitting comfortably My b**h in that [seavu Red?] she look like her [mumfalee?] And that [gold she gave away], so we got some company They all up on my stanky leg, let me check my dougie [first?] Then I crank my superman after that I swag and surf b**h, I pop my tags on [earth?] [because?] I shop where the stars be Don't add me up [?] I'm fly [?] Ho, I be where Mars be That's hella hella hella hot I be on that Marley With plastic titty, blonde [bittys?] I be on them barbie Zoom on that Yamaha, no [b?] this a Harley Watch it girl, I catch a [way?] Then I'm thinking gnarly You got to charge that to the game [?] your b**h ain't charge me I breaker break her [?] Like Alpha, Bravo, Charlie [Hook] [Verse STS] My arrogance is ignorant Polo on my cleanliness I be talking labels I got universal penmanship Mary gray to yellow lizards What I wear my linen with Then give me the co-sign, let's go to the dealership White [verg?] green [?] Like a bowl of spinach dip I might buy a small town I was think French [?] Let go tear the mall down, my b**h into the French sh** We look like some curly fries, damn that might be Jeezy bit 87 32, and I got my [yeezy?] kit Rock a fitted, lean with it They think I'm weezy sick I might need a Dr. Dre to come see my immediate I know they think I'm the sh** I saw it when they tweeted it Gain ten, and lost one There they go deleting it Boy, ain't that a dirty game You're down right devious A-T-L, [?nta?] I am what you need in this Your favorite rapper in the lab like ashes on my petri dish [Hook:]