Frankie Sinatra

Ah, Frankie Sinatra Ah, Frank Sinatra Frankie, me boy, don't know You have the perfect voice to sing calypso What did they say? Ah, Frankie Sinatra Ah, Frank Sinatra Frankie, me boy, don't know You have the perfect voice to sing calypso What did they say? Ah, Frankie Sinatra Ah, Frank Sinatra Frankie, me boy, don't know You have the perfect voice to sing calypso What did they say? Ah, Frankie Sinatra Ah, Frank Sinatra Frankie, me boy, don't know You have the perfect voice to sing calypso What did they say? Frankie, me boy, don't know You have the perfect voice to sing calypso Off his rocker, he's off his rocker Please, Mr. Officer, I only had some vodka Little marijuana, just a few Vicodin Only reefer swervin' over here while I'm driving Where your registration, OG license? 'Cause of that interior, your bitch wanna ride it Plate red, bold cat, dick got LoJack White hoes callin' and they asking, "Where the dope at?" What-whatever Modern day Sammy, how I roll with that Sinatra All for pasta, spray it in her mouth like Binaca Listenin' to salsa, rhythm of maracas M.I.A., Anna Nicole, just sippin' in Sri Lanka I divide and conquer, roll with Willy Wonka Baby mama wanna suck the dong up at the concert And they gets no pay Like Frank Sinatra, bitch, I do this shit my way Like Frank Sinatra, bitch, do this shit my way Ah, Frankie Sinatra Ah, Frank Sinatra Frankie, me boy, don't know You have the perfect voice to sing calypso What did they say? Ah, Frankie Sinatra Ah, Frank Sinatra Frankie, me boy, don't know You have the perfect voice to sing calypso What did they say? Frankie, me boy, don't know You have the perfect voice to sing calypso I'm so high, you're so high If I take another sniff, then I just might die Take another sip, then I just might lie Tell her what she wanna hear just to get between them thighs Underground nigga, but on top of the world Took the bitch for oyster, now my tongue on the pearl So fuck what you say, do this shit my way Like Frank Sinatra, bitch, did this shit my way Tanks of vodka, sip slow rocka, ock Writ rhymes since the days when Frankie Crocker rocked From more stocky stock Known for his illy right hook to make Rocky block That's no poppycock, pirate We can keep it irie, or we can keep it irate Dilate, or keep it one hundred From the heights of Northern Lights to Southern Comfort One fifth, come with that headbanger boogie for that ass Villain give a bully ten noogies for the cash Or dash, dip slow on a marathon Or maybe he gon' sing calypso like Farrakhan Or Frank Sinatra, mon