One (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
And fuck the baddest hoes that your ass can find
One (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
Four of the finest hoes that your ass can find

Sittin' at the stoplight, looking at hoes
Peeping out this bitch in her black Girbauds
Windows rolled up tight, top was closed
Blowing Swisher Sweet smoke out my nose
Open up the door and asked the bitch, "What's up?"
Lookin' at me crazy, I'm like, "Bitch what's up?"
She asked about my woman, I said "My woman at home"
I asked about her nigga, she said her nigga was gone
I got my pencil and got the digits and things
And after three or four days, I gave that bitch a ring
We started talking and I dropped some shit
Gave her some game and now I got that bitch
Now she wants to give your homie some ass
But it's just one question I got to ask
Can you

One (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
And fuck the baddest bitches that your ass can find
One (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
Four of the finest bitches that your ass can find

I called my homie, told my homie "it's on"
Got a few hoes that wanna moan and groan
They on they way I just hung up the phone
And we gon' be like Marvin Gaye, nigga, gettin' it on
But you gots to keep your head right
And make these bitches feel at home
'Cause these bitches got they head tight
And furthermore, they bringin' weed
Just kick back, nigga, follow my lead

One (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
And fuck the baddest hoes that your ass can find
One (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
Four of the finest bitches that your ass can find

Hung up the horn and the hoes arrived
Three tight young tenders, them hoes was live
Rolled herself a woola, told her "Fade me, troop"
Cock bustin' at the seams of her Daisy Dukes
Ass fatter than a motherfuckin' quarter horse
Ready to take one of these bitches to the slaughterhouse
Got my shirt over my dick 'cause it's hardened to fuck
Hoes eyes getting red, now they wantin' to fuck
It's about time to put the game in attack
Tapped her, told her bring "ol' what's her name" in the back
Got 'em in my room, about to hop in the tub
My homie walked in, "Show your partna some love"
Told my homie put it down, we finna act a fool
The ho said, "Cool, hop yo ass in the pool
I wanna polish up your tool"
But it's just one thing before you do
Can you

One (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
And four of the fattest Swishers that your ass can find
Can you, one (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
And four of the fattest Swishers that your ass can find
Can you, one (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
And four of the fattest Swishers that your ass can find
Can you, one (bring your boy a bottle of wine)
Two (don't forget the papers this time)
Three (go to Joe's and pick up a dime)
Act a fool, uh!

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Brad Jordan, Marcus Vest, Michael Poye