Jump Out The Coupe! - Soulja Boy

Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe

Jumped out the coupe, yeah, yeah

Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe

Jumped out the coupe, yeah

Jumped out the coupe, nigga whippin' up dope

And don’t play with my gang, ain’t no playin' with Dre

Drop, wop, I’m having juice and some killers and niggas that’s ready to shoot

Ha, jumped out the coupe, look at my shoes

Pour up a deuce, yeah

I’m pourin' this out when we shootin' at you

Red Lambo, nigga, when I skrrt through

Red gelato, I’m trappin'

Money Gang, westside, nigga, I get to clappin'

Whack me a opp, he was gangster, nigga, what happened?

I take that brick and wrap it in a napkin

Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe

Jumped out the coupe, yeah, yeah

Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe

Jumped out the coupe, yeah

Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe

Jumped out the coupe, yeah, yeah

Jumped out the coupe, jumped out the coupe

Jumped out the coupe, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m back again

Send your location, I’m ready to spin

I’m losing my voice, but I’m still going in

I was jumpin' the top out the Maybach 2020 Benz

If her boyfriend from D, trade Cartier lens

In with AK, Apple TV on film

Versace, they copy and that’s be him

Jump out the Gotti, new Maserati

Life of the party, hey, hey

Everyday, I’m trending topic, trap in the Martian

You know I be poppin', hey, hey

On feet, Yeezy, make it look easy

Diamonds be freezin', hey

Ran lot of M’s up, they didn’t believe me

Ran out on man when I’m passin', it’s easy

Big Draco the goat and I know they not and they see why

Just did an album and on it is T. I

Christian and Louis, I don’t wear no Levi’s

A Lamborghini drop top two-seater

Choppa clap, make him Macarena

That choppa gon' sing like, «Señorita»

Straight drop, Wockhardt, I don’t pocket tequila

Jump out the coupe, jump out the jump

Jump out the damn, I got them stamps

That’s a big body Lamb'

Open fire showers, they lookin' like, «Damn»

Draco ham, I’m fresh out the can

Keep dissin' on me and I’m murkin' your man

Got the passport stamps, I done went to Japan

And I’m spinnin' opp block just like ceiling fan

We gon' slide, blah-blah, black doors on minivans

Leave me my nigga, but I ain’t never rock no Vans

I beat that pot like Peter Pan

Shots, shots, they lookin' at me like, «Damn»

See no motorcycle, this a three-wheel Can-Am

I’ma run to that money like gingerbread man

Nigga, catch me if you can

Those Perc 30's 'bout to be in my hand

This ZaZa exotic came with the gram