|
(feat. Bailey & Messy Marv) |
|
[Verse 1: Bailey] |
|
I'm sky ballin', a young California pimp |
|
Loungin' in a stretch Bently sittin low on the tents |
|
Iced down, draped an dipped hittin bomb ***** (bomb *****) |
|
Servin' on stega shrimp, sippin' Dom P (Dom P) |
|
Lavishly cordinated |
|
Savagely corporated |
|
On casino, Mr. Gambino's Mobb affiliated |
|
The world is mine, that's what I read on a blimp |
|
Playin cops I'm a robber with blue prints to the mint |
|
Didn't leave no evidence, went back to, my residence |
|
Snatch the Benjamin's, an all the other dead presidents |
|
My hoochies like to toss me the coochie |
|
Floss me in Gucci |
|
But groupies would never cost me no Loochie |
|
What I look like? |
|
Givin' a hoe all my doe, like she wrote all my flows |
|
******* I'm all-pro |
|
You be the same hoe, on the stroll makin' me mo dinero |
|
So tip-toe through the rain, sleet an snow |
|
[Hook x2] |
|
I gotta get my Money Over ******* |
|
They want the money, I want my riches |
|
[Verse 2: Messy Marv] |
|
Quinnton mania, hoes I'm tamin' ya |
|
Never praisin ya, never payin ya |
|
Nothin' mo than attention |
|
Havin' paper is an addiction |
|
Your not bringin additions |
|
Then subtract yo self from my jurisdictions |
|
This is how I see it |
|
My crew we be the cleanest |
|
Pu*******n' Benzes and Beamers |
|
These hoes ain't pleased to meet us |
|
Pass us Master Cards an Visas |
|
Illegal searches |
|
We smokin' roaches with no crutches |
|
******* we cope, from bein' broke and do it like a hustla a |
|
Ain't no friends we all cousins |
|
Baby networkin' |
|
Money ain't nothin' |
|
You got it all? You need to quit perpin' |
|
A quarter million wouldn't satisfy me |
|
I be a Master like P |
|
And I act like Luni |
|
Only God can do me |
|
Burn a crutch with doobie, approach smoothly |
|
Only ladies with paper amuse me, an broke hoes choose me |
|
But lose bein' in a pursuit of tryin to talk |
|
For the conversation of ***** you and *******t ******* it's goin to cost |
|
[Hook x2] |
|
[Verse 3: San Quinn] |
|
I got 2 for 1, from Ya-yo to in-do |
|
Paper now, hoes later, the tradition in Fil-mo |
|
Dime-els, bricks of Ya-yo, coke dealers, crack sales |
|
*****s that tell on Big Willies |
|
Young killas, ******* that jock, look at 'em stare |
|
Got 'em choosin, got hoes droolin' on a playa |
|
My gold teeth glare, *******nnin' like cheese goin "Bling" |
|
Knock Out Playa, K-O-P in the street |
|
I ***** with big timers, ridin' sideways with young thugs |
|
Don't manipulise, of Fil-mo hood nudge |
|
Shake hood slugs, make hood drugs |
|
Never could, never would a ***** hoe trust |
|
Money Over ******* |
|
Trust a ******* I never would |
|
Hoe I'm too major |
|
Havin' paper like Tiger Woods |
|
Famous in the Mo |
|
Rob from the rich and slang Ya-yo to the poor |
|
Flippin', manipulate a dumb hoe |
|
For way mo' |
|
I tell 'em BIA-TCH!! |
|
I love ballin', how could I be tired of bein' rich? |
|
Been off the hook so long, got disconnected unexpected |
|
And you *****z is wrong for payin' hoes an hoe protectin'. |
|
[Hook: Till End] |
