Cream Corn Wiz Khalifa

[Intro]
Yup, that's right
I'm running things
I'm running things
Cream corn
That's why they call me that; smooth
I got more measure for your pleasure
Stick with me, baby
I'll let you fart through silk
And let a nigga mess with me
I'll jump on him
All night, three pounds of pure dynamite

[Verse 1]
Uh, soon as the door lift
I roll another spliff, she click her heels and get down to business
No referee, but I'm so official
Baby, wipe your eyes, no more tears, use these hundreds for tissue
Dress you like you in magazines, the VIP issue
Rollin' up, enjoyin' the scene, thеn text you "I miss you"
We outta herе, this a missile, smoke clouds got me invisible
Don't really fuck with the crowd, I'm individual
Online shoppin' for products, my money digital
So we can talk about it
I'm takin' nugs out the jar 'til I'm unconscious
I'm makin' them all see multiple colors when the watch lift
Learn how to ball, I don't sit with y'all, I'm in the cockpit
Rollin' a joint big as a cigar
Wishin' I'd fall, sorry dawg
You gon' need a new pond to throw your change in
You too small