[Verse 1]
|
Talk about it, make em talk about it
|
Life to me is currency, prosperity I got it
|
And your life to me is lifeless like it¡¯s livin' on life support
|
I license everything in my wallet, lightest boy with the biggest heart
|
Nigga play your part or parallel park your ego next to me and violence
|
Next to me is definitely no one, I'm one of one
|
And I musta won that from anybody who had it or better yet forgot it
|
Mack in the back of a 'Lac with a mac in the back of a 'Lac
|
With a latch on the back of the trunk
|
Hit a punk in the back with a pump in the back, till he's off balance
|
And I'm back in the front of the front of the future when you are mentioning talent
|
And I'm in the back in the back of the block with a cop wanna cop anybody's allowance
|
Iraq on the block G watch for the block or whatever
|
And cut no cut more guns more guts fuck boy you fucked up twice you fucked considerin' you drownin'
|
Die in a lake with a date with a catfish back flip head first smilin'
|
C-cry in the face of Jesus we just pray we keep on stylin'
|
On you bitches TDE YMCMB business bitch
|
|
[Verse 2]
|
Okay nigga riding in a May-B, and I'm probably with baby
|
Dont talk nigga fuck you pay me, intercept your bitch like Bailey
|
Okay big money on this side, 100 grand for the whip my bitch drive
|
Need a new safe money getting too high, dead presidents all in my Levis
|
Boy I swear this nigga be swagging, and I'm living lavish
|
Might cop me an Aston, Martin on 'em
|
Anything I drive I own 'em, bad bitch and that ass ain't normal
|
Gotta put that pound game on her, beat it up she deep in a coma
|
I'm super paid, 2 shows a day
|
My rollie gold, no time to waste
|
What it do Berg, my fuckin' brother
|
Keep that pistol by me like my lovely momma
|
Hot as the summer, cold as the winter
|
Stay on them charts, I heard that they plotting my timber
|
Young nigga, got a lot of flows
|
Any nigga don't believe me, I make it look easy easy out of control
|
|
[Verse 3]
|
Box full of choppers, hand on the trigger
|
Uptown gangsta, get it how we get it
|
Third War soldier, suicide rider
|
Militant minded, hundred mill on the counter
|
Hand pearly rug nigga, flame on the Bugatti
|
Christian Louboutin, Chanel for my models
|
Higher than Bugatti nigga, fishing on the fish scales
|
Nose diving for them hundreds, strapped up making mail
|
Fr-fresher than I been before
|
Higher than we even been, shining on them 24¡¯s
|
Junior doing time ho
|
On the grind ho, while he doing time ho
|
|
[Interlude]
|
Ya know!
|
The time is money and money still was made baby
|
Eight months ain¡¯t stop nothing nigga
|
It¡¯s like jail was third base and my lil¡¯ nigga still came home, ya understand
|
|
[Verse 4: Mack Maine]
|
I¡¯m from the hood where bitches hold coke in they baby diapers
|
That¡¯s why when the babies grow up damn they be like us
|
I came a long ways from rhyming up in crazy cyphers
|
Man I¡¯m so happy my lil¡¯ brother came home from Rikers
|
Shout out to BP, Thugga, Flow and Fail Boy
|
My flow Lucifer, I spit hell boy
|
My heart numb, ain¡¯t no pain I can¡¯t withstand
|
And I hold my niggas down boy like a kickstand
|
Get off my nuts, stop acting like a bitch fam
|
Lil¡¯ nigga finish puberty, grow ya own dick damn
|
I went from watching time fly on Earl and Red porch
|
To cruising through the streets of Miami in a red Porsche
|
Me and Stunna fly, we should join the Air Force
|
Stand up niggas, the fuck you brought them chairs for?
|
I went from making money from people with crack habits
|
To thanking God I¡¯m in a whole ¡®nother tax bracket
|
Amen
|
|
-----------------
|
B Boyz
|
Young Money Entertainment |