Travis Porter - Err Damn Day lyrics

[Hook 1] Still smokin’ that la, la, la – ‘bout to head out to East LA I hope I don’t miss my flight, got a show out in Saint-Tropez I be kickin’ it in the red light district where some hoes speak Français Shoutout to the thick girls in Houston, Chi-Town and M.I.A. We still smokin’ that la, la, la – ‘bout to head out to East LA I hope I don’t miss my flight, got a show out in Saint-Tropez I be kickin’ it in the red light district where some hoes speak Français Shoutout to the thick girls in Houston, Chi-Town and M.I.A. Smokin’ that la, la, la, like err damn day La, la, la, like err damn day La, la, la, like err damn day La, la, la, like err damn day [Verse 1] Aye look, I’m gone off the molly – I’m gone out this world I’m buyin’ all my luck, and I keep thinkin’ ‘bout my girl sponsored links I’m out in West LA, my b**h from West LA Yeah she talk all night, but she f** all day We on that la, la, la – we just landed in the Bay From San Fran to Oakland, they smoke all day And then we fly down south… to ATL And M-I-Yayo, I’m probably with your girl Then head to NYC, did a show with SOB Interviews on MTV, yeah it’s just me and Travy [Bridge] Roll up and pa** it – this another cla**ic Roll up and pa** it – this another cla**ic Roll up and pa** it – this another cla**ic Roll up and pa** it – this another cla**ic [Hook 2] Still smokin’ that la, la, la – ‘bout to head out to East LA I hope I don’t miss my flight, got a show out in Saint-Tropez I be kickin’ it in the red light district where some hoes speak Français Shoutout to the thick girls in Houston, Chi-Town and M.I.A. Smokin’ that la, la, la, like err damn day La, la, la, like err damn day La, la, la, like err damn day La, la, la, like err damn day [Verse 2] Black balls… black ball, though Three deep, but we came in a four-door Had to stalk through the ‘hood on the low-low Stepped out, n***as smellin’ like dough-dough Hit a dice game, rollin’ on the floor, hoe First roll, n***a, three pimps, four hoes n***a, put your money on the floor My n***a Three keep the ‘dro rolled Like err damn day, my weed from West LA But I got it from MLK That’s Atlanta, hoe – I’m from Kamero Probably catch me at the crib with a centerfold And I still pop sills if you didn’t know Oh man, I’m a player god On the track with my homeboy Jeremih Heat on with the top down Man, it’s pretty cold in the Chi-Town This ain’t no motherf**ing Newport But we headed to the airport [Hook 1] [Verse 3] Smokin’ on that la, la, la – top down, I’m sky high Diamonds bright when the sun shine The girl is yours but the p**y’s mine Me and two mamis seated in the back of the truck Smokin’ on keesha while they backin’ it up Been gettin’ money, throw a stack in the club Know a n***a still ‘hood, got a strap in the tuck My b**h is immaculate, more money I have to get 200 on the dash, no holdin’ back, boy, I’m smashin’ it Got a b**h from the H-Town – big booty smoked my whole pound All the dope boys want shorty, I can’t even bring her around If you want to, we can ride away Get high today and throw some bands away Got a show tonight in Saint-Tropez I poured a four and just copped an eighth [Hook 1]