The Woods lyrics

I wanna dedicate this song to that special chick
(Did you hear that?)

Trippy chick…

[Hook: Justin Timberlake]

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Hey baby let’s fly away to a [?] place
So far away we get high and feel that we out of space
She keep looking back at it, we keep grinding like [?]
All she want is this pipe, I turn her into a crack addict
Ain’t nothing that a nigga can’t afford
Louie, Gucci or Chanel, I’ll buy the store
You and me on a new beach, sippin’ champagne
Making love on a island resort
No need to pack luggage, hope on the jet like “fuck it”
I got everything you want and you need, I guarantee you’ll love it
She the baddest woman you ever seen, she belong with King Magazine
You might seen her on a movie screen, she’s so dope now I’m her fiend
Just thinking about her I don’t need a buzz
We party hard, we don’t need a club
Bring your passport we’re making love in Persia on a Persian rug


[Verse 2: Juicy J]
I got a Rolls-Royce baby that’s yours
I got a private jet baby that’s yours
I’m balling baby, what’s mine is yours
You can have all that and even more
I got a black card, go on a shopping spree
I buy you so much ice, girl you can ski
Your old man tryna lock you down
Come with Juicy J and you’ll be free
She got her own, she independent
We at the lake, she skinny dipping
In the hotel we wake the neighbors
They knocking like Jehovah’s Witnesses
Girl we can kick [?] karate
Back to my suit, ten grand a night
Just me and you, it’s a private party
She’s sent from heaven, mayne
She needs wings on her
I might have to put a ring on her


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