A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Swizz Beatz

"Brown Paper Bag"

All brown paper bag (Uh-Oh)
All brown paper bag (Uh-Oh)
All brown all brown - Fi-Fi-Fill (Haha) it up wit' more

[Hook: Lil Wayne]
All brown paper bag -Fill it up wit' ones (Like Father, Like Son biatch!)
All brown paper bag - Fill it up wit' ones (Angel on the beat)
Fill it - Fill it up wit' ones (I tell 'em I tell 'em)

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
I got that paper bag full of paper, bag full of kush
Big choppa I can hit you from a hundred foots
Wha's happenin' Wardy? How you want it, buddy?
Them b*tches checkin' for me, tell 'em I'm with Swizz Swizzy
They call me Wizzy Fizzy, holla back, right now I'm busy
I am the president, you just play your position
And I hope that door don't hit ya, get up outta my office crawfish
Don't let them sharkys get ya, this beat's a car collision
Check out my car collection, yea look at my rims, ho
Mercedes wit' them kidneys, naw that's a Benzo
I don't pop them pills no, but I pop them rubber bands
Man I can get like fifty thousand in that brown bag

[Hook x3]

[Verse 2: Birdman]
Yea, n*gga
Cook a whole, make it out a whole and a half b*tch!
Yea, Birdman in a Benz wit' the duffel stuffed
Got a chopper wit' a drum and one iced up
Them people hot around my way but we don't give a f*ck
We on the grind for the shine tryin' to come up
A black MAC, black 6, and a black Hummer
Them thirteen hundreds, fourteen hundreds, we be gettin' money
Drop it off, get to work n*gga keep it runnin'
Garbage bag full of cash n*gga keep it comin'
In my hood Red Phantom n*gga we be stuntin'
Got the block blocked off n*gga we be hustlin'
Brown duffel bag filled up with cash
16 years old with a brand new, Jag b*tch!

[Hook x2]

[Verse 3: Swizz Beatz]
Get it up, in the air
Get it up, in the air
Now money cars clothes hoes, all a n*gga know so
I'm from the ghetto so, give me my pesos
All brown paper bag, I could fill it up with ones
n*gga fill it up with ones, hey, fill it up with ones
I think that she's a stripper, dancer, dancer, dancer
Dancer, hey hey stuff it in the thang dog
Damn right I be poppin' my collar
In a all black Impala makin' fiends wanna holla
Got the suade on my headrest, gold on my damn bracelet
Hey, triple gold n*gga, sucka, I ain't ridin' thin
You want me come and get me
I'm in 360 (Ferrari, man) Cash Money's with me

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes and personal use only.
Copyright © 2017-2019 Lyrics.lol