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 #

Juvenile

"Lil’ Daddy"

[Juvenile talking]
Whoa! C'mon Whoa! I hear you n*ggas heart pumpin
C' mon, whoa!, whats up, whoa! U.T.P, U.T.P

[Verse 1: Juvenile]
He gotta be in too much 'bout everything that he touch
Out of the roof money get packed up and moved in the truck
Kill me if you feel I ain't worthy
I inherited skills from murky n*ggas that's as real as my Saints jersey
I stand here posted in the worst of times
Knowing n*ggas after me, gonna rehearse my grind
I'm not a prophet, but I could teach you how to c*ck it and pop it
And how to put some money in your pocket
You see something you like go 'head and cop it
But watch it, n*ggas gone knock it
Trying to get you for your paper when them b*tches is jockin'
You might do lil' daddy like that, but this is not him
Don't look for your people to help you, my n*ggas done shot them
My people done told me I could roll
I got a reputation for beating n*ggas and hoes
Stickin' to the G code, 'tees, 'rees, and 'bows
Pop a Ex, smoke a blunt, if you believe it then Whoa!

[Baby a.k.a. Birdman (Chorus x2)]
Whoa! I got to get it Lil Daddy (so keep your hands up)
Whoa! I got to have it Lil Daddy (so keep your hands up)
Whoa! I got to get it Lil Daddy, I got to have it Lil Daddy
I want that brand new Caddy

[Verse 2: Juvenile]
I'm way over the top with mines
I used to bag it up and take it to the block sometimes
Poor n*ggas be eating pork, rich n*ggas be eating steak
I'ma get me a Porterhouse n*gga, you just wait
You couldn't step on my toes if you was standing 6' 8"
It's mister 400 b*tches so get that sh*t straight
You better talk to your ho 'fore I put di*k in her face
Look, I'm wild Magnolia, she better get in her place
I ain't a law abiding citizen, I gets ignorant
I got a trail of n*ggas telling cops what I did to them
I ain't lookin for no poppers, ain't looking for no partners
I'm looking for mo' choppers to get rid of mo' problems
All I got is my ball and my words
My momma, my daddy, my chil'ren, my gun, and my herb
sh*t, they got a lot of killers I know
But ain't too many gon' make it to see 2004, whoa!

(chorus x2)

[Verse 3: Juvenile]

I tried to play the backround as mcuh as I could
Cause all the big mouth n*ggas be gettin knocked in the hood
Remeber them lil' n*ggas? they done grew up now
So 'ret street and (?) turned into a clocked up dump
We scam on sh*t because we love that sound
We not concerned about waiting unitl the night come 'round
Hey lil' mama I'm a gorilla, let me pipe that down
(puffing sound) yeah, you like that now
I'm a professional, the mountaineer of the streets
I got old timers paying close attention to me
I could get your sh*t split for the minimum fee (yeah)
f*cking with them n*ggas, got a ten for a ki'
Got a few princess cuts on the watch and the piece
I'll put it on your ass for a (?)
Don't get mad cause I've been c*cking your niece
She been giving head and eating pus*y like a lot of the freaks

(chorus) -repeat untill end

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 #


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