Young Money
[Verse 1: Curren$y]
Curren$y the hot spitta, fast life, slow flow
Lost a couple, that ain't shit I got more
H-O-E-Z's N***a you know me
Bitches talk sideways, get smacked the fuck up
I'm a pimp but I don't move with a pimp cup
I'd rather keep my drinks in a thermos
Told y'all before I was an advanced learner
Cops tryna send me off the cap like ernest
But I ain't going for that walk
Fuck around with me and I'mma let that Gat talk
Ima let that heat spray
Right where you stand that's where you're gonna lay
Still play cool, get off the streets
Cops came to the house, moms told them I was asleep
Cuz she knew my rider script to a Tee
Told them I had the flu and I was in the bed for weeks
Another victim of a murderer
Now your family running asking people "Have they hear of ya"
All over, putting up posters, like you got an album about to drop
But ain't nothing but to drop but that casket
Label me a bastard, even though I know my pops
Rap game say I fell off the scene
But I'm coming right back like I forgot my keys
[Verse 2: Boo]
It's a shame how gotta duck shots
From these hating ass n***a and these crooked ass cops
Fuck it. It just make me grind harder
Now I'm signing young Carter
P89 be the answer to my problems
Bench warmers getting mad I'm a starter
Number one draft pick, lamping in the black 6
Talk big shit, and still turn bricks like backflips
Young Money be the circle that I ride for
N***a we live to stay fly on you assholes
It ain't a doubt, Ima rep that Chicago
But I got so much love for the south
Where the women be more thick and give great mouth
And love all the shit that a thug be bout
Now let these things rain out
YM bitch and thats how we bang out
[Verse 3: Mack Maine]
Im a gorilla with the flow
N***a fittin to blow
Ice everywhere chinchilla to the flow
Escalade trucks with the chromed out buggies
Type of shit I got since a n***a got weight
N***a gained a little weight, but the hoes still love me
Still let a n***a put the dick to their face
Run up to you crib, put the burner to your face
Leave his team without a trace, at an Earnhardt pace
But no I ant Dale I ain't tryna hit the wall
Tyna mack a little broad and get her back to the place
Your old man trip, I'll show what the Ruger hold
Catch a flight to J-ville, can't miss the Superbowl
Then its back to the hood, cuz I love the streets
Better find Noah's arc, bout to flood the streets
Young money, thats the clan
Young Maine I'm the man, Getting money is the plan
The Rugers don't jam
[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
Weezy F, Kinda nice with the Glock
But I'm better than that with the rock
Tyna land me a spot at the ROC
And my city got word of that
N***as want me to hook them up with Fox
I done got young Mall off the block
Now the haters don't know where he at
Tryna do the same thing for Cop
That's my young brother, he got shot
If a n***a tryna jack, then we're coming back like Hip-Hop
Got the bullets coming out the pump
Running through your stomach back like a running back
I ain't got the Emmitt Smith bitch I got the Dorsett
AR-33 shooting like a Cowboy, tryna see Red Skin
Bitch I'm fly, I'm skyborn
Young Ozzy Osbourne, floating like a cloud boy
Got them bitched piled up
Moving like a plow truck
With they're fucking mouths up
South Up!
Curren$y the hot spitta, fast life, slow flow
Lost a couple, that ain't shit I got more
H-O-E-Z's N***a you know me
Bitches talk sideways, get smacked the fuck up
I'm a pimp but I don't move with a pimp cup
I'd rather keep my drinks in a thermos
Told y'all before I was an advanced learner
Cops tryna send me off the cap like ernest
But I ain't going for that walk
Fuck around with me and I'mma let that Gat talk
Ima let that heat spray
Right where you stand that's where you're gonna lay
Still play cool, get off the streets
Cops came to the house, moms told them I was asleep
Cuz she knew my rider script to a Tee
Told them I had the flu and I was in the bed for weeks
Another victim of a murderer
Now your family running asking people "Have they hear of ya"
All over, putting up posters, like you got an album about to drop
But ain't nothing but to drop but that casket
Label me a bastard, even though I know my pops
Rap game say I fell off the scene
But I'm coming right back like I forgot my keys
[Verse 2: Boo]
It's a shame how gotta duck shots
From these hating ass n***a and these crooked ass cops
Fuck it. It just make me grind harder
Now I'm signing young Carter
P89 be the answer to my problems
Bench warmers getting mad I'm a starter
Number one draft pick, lamping in the black 6
Talk big shit, and still turn bricks like backflips
Young Money be the circle that I ride for
N***a we live to stay fly on you assholes
It ain't a doubt, Ima rep that Chicago
But I got so much love for the south
Where the women be more thick and give great mouth
And love all the shit that a thug be bout
Now let these things rain out
YM bitch and thats how we bang out
[Verse 3: Mack Maine]
Im a gorilla with the flow
N***a fittin to blow
Ice everywhere chinchilla to the flow
Escalade trucks with the chromed out buggies
Type of shit I got since a n***a got weight
N***a gained a little weight, but the hoes still love me
Still let a n***a put the dick to their face
Run up to you crib, put the burner to your face
Leave his team without a trace, at an Earnhardt pace
But no I ant Dale I ain't tryna hit the wall
Tyna mack a little broad and get her back to the place
Your old man trip, I'll show what the Ruger hold
Catch a flight to J-ville, can't miss the Superbowl
Then its back to the hood, cuz I love the streets
Better find Noah's arc, bout to flood the streets
Young money, thats the clan
Young Maine I'm the man, Getting money is the plan
The Rugers don't jam
[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
Weezy F, Kinda nice with the Glock
But I'm better than that with the rock
Tyna land me a spot at the ROC
And my city got word of that
N***as want me to hook them up with Fox
I done got young Mall off the block
Now the haters don't know where he at
Tryna do the same thing for Cop
That's my young brother, he got shot
If a n***a tryna jack, then we're coming back like Hip-Hop
Got the bullets coming out the pump
Running through your stomach back like a running back
I ain't got the Emmitt Smith bitch I got the Dorsett
AR-33 shooting like a Cowboy, tryna see Red Skin
Bitch I'm fly, I'm skyborn
Young Ozzy Osbourne, floating like a cloud boy
Got them bitched piled up
Moving like a plow truck
With they're fucking mouths up
South Up!