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(Baby (talking with echo)) |
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Aye, Aye, Aye, Ya |
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Tot' 'em up, light it up nigga |
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Birdman motherf**ker |
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Clipse, VA, NO nigga |
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What you smelt |
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Coke'll leave plastic |
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Get off the border motherf**ker |
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Come on little'n handle your business for me boy |
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(Chorus: Pusha T & (Pharrell) (2x)) |
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(Brrrrrrrrrrr) What happened to that boy (yo) |
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(Brrrrrrrrrrr) What happened to that boy |
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(Brrrrrrrrrrr) What happened to that boy |
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He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy |
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(Malice) |
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Whoa...Yeah...Malicious...Yeah |
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I heard they snitchin' on a player man say it aint so |
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Even as a young'n they consigned me to blow |
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WHICH EXPLAINS why I'm worth my weight in gold |
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While they was taking baby steps from an 8th to an O |
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Word in the streets that can envy as me |
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Enough ice on that watch to make a nigga lose sleep |
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Magnified face help the bitch see clearly |
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9 on the waist hit the bitch up severely |
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I'm kNOWN for the flip of that cokAINA |
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I'm heavy in the street like the 7 series BEEMA (BMW) |
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Man, hit 'em with the Nina man |
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Or that 4/5th guaranteed to lean ya man (Whoa) |
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I'm the reason that your block is vacant |
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Malicious will hit ya just to make a statement |
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Bitch! Clipse and Cash Money who aint rich |
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Don't compare me to you nigga you aint this (Whoa) |
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(Chorus) |
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(Baby) |
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Aye...Aye...Aye, Aye, Aye, Aye, Aye, Aye, Aye... |
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Stunna and Patty Cake the worldwide Pusha (get this money) |
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Birdman nigga leave the guns in the busher (cuff 'em up, let 'em up bitch) |
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Been shittin' up bricks unload 'em to Gucci |
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Boss of the ghetto with the round shape cookie |
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Shit one, Dro one nigga flood the block |
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If I don't go to jail niggas birds gone flop |
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Nigga sittin' on the toilet bitch get off the pot |
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The bird just landed so the hood gon' rot |
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New whips, big chips the Prada Gucci shit |
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But mami your fly Benz the wide skinny lips |
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She takes my flight she holds my weight |
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While the po-po staked out from state to state |
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It aint nuttin to a baller baby |
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Pay the cars, big money, heavy weight, bird man, hood boss |
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Baby steppin on my line I'll show a little somethin' |
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They callin' you don't come out then the black crow will touch ya (touch ya) |
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(Chorus (2x)) |
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(Pusha T) |
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Ughhh...Another soul lost |
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Had to make a shirt match my ox blood colored Porsche |
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Ughhh...The rims match of course |
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Blood hit his Timbs it reminded me of them |
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Glistenin' wrist on chiller |
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Gun in the same palm of gorgeous killer |
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I put this on my lord my niece was 4 when she felt chinchilla |
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I past the shore for that shit that made fiends rise from the dead like |
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Thriller |
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Gangster...Hustler |
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At night still found time to kiss my mother |
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Live like I'm dreamin' kick my feet up |
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Gun pulled my waist remind me of my demon |
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So quite ya yappin' fore I get to clappin |
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And have your body parts mix and matching fella |
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(Chorus (2x)) |
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(Baby (talking)) |
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Aye, Aye, Aye, Aye, there it is nigga, there you have it |
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Birdman, Clipse you under-smelt, VA you know |
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Uptown nigga, we go anywhere with this bullshit |
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We flip bricks you under-smell (gangster motherf**ker) |
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Aye nigga put this puzzle together |
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Aye Pharrell you did this year (you did it nigga) |
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A 1000 pieces puzzles (startrak) 100, you know |
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Let's get this money (get the money) |
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Hey nigga I smell somethin', coke'll leave plastic bitch |
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Get money motherf**ker |
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However you want it you can get it pimp |
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From gangster to blood nigga, take it how you want it nigga |
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We did it how we live, aint nothin' but the thug thing nigga |
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Money thing motherf**ker |
