White lines, pretty baby, tattoos
Don't know what they mean
They're special, just for you
White palms, baking powder on the stove
Cooking up a dream, turning diamonds into snow

I feel you, pretty baby, feel me
Turn it up hot, loving you is free
I like it down, like it down way low
But you already know that
You already know

Come on down to Florida
I got something for ya
We could see the kilos or the Keys, baby, oh ya
Guns in the summertime
Chic-a-Cherry Cola lime
Prison isn't nothing to me if you'll be by my side

Come on down to Florida
I got something for ya
We could see the kilos or the Keys, baby, oh ya
Guns in the summertime
Chic-a-Cherry Cola lime
Prison isn't nothing to me if you'll be by my side