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Got a pocketful of hunks, gon' make some change Got a pocketful of ones, gon' make it rain Gotta rock it 'til we're dumb and make it bang And bein' in the boot don't mean you're famous Wipe these like a kid in the candy store While she needs a sip to dance some more Malibu rum, takin' you out and droppin' it down like your bank account
[Ya Boy:] Yeah Pacific Coast Highway, my way Gettin' high on the beach, I might fly away Got my Corona, my marijuana My beach bunny in a Maula Bona Open the lamp bowl [?], light girls shit there Half-in, smashed off, woo! Rick Flare! Malibu blowin' on it's homegrown And I'm so gone; E.T., phone home
[Colette Carr:] Ain't nothin' wrong with a lil cake on me We got Malibu lookin' like a bakery Now she's like the kid in the candy store While he's tryin' to peek in her panty drawer Not mad at you; cake is the answer Malibu-shake, belly dancer Girl's got junk, workin' that samba Breezy day, PCH Livin' life the easy way Coastin, red-cup toastin' Wigglin' toes in the sand by the ocean