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 #



[Intro: T-Streets]
What it do, n*gga
This your n*gga T-Streets
Bang-bang in the building
This Young Money
First up, my n*gga Gudda Gudda
Double G, blap, blap

[Verse 1: Gudda Gudda]
They call me Young Gudda, I'm all about the dough still
And anybody in my way, road kill
Everything my hands touch turn to gold
Money, knots and jewels with no records sold, yeah
I'm manhandlin' rappers with no effort
So imagine what'll happen when I start applyin' pressure
Guillotine flow, who ready to get severed n*gga
In or out the booth, you could get leveled n*gga

[Transition: T-Streets]
Now we gonna take it to Harlem, Millzy

[Verse 2: Jae Millz]
L’eggo, yo we are Young Money
n*gga you can't chocha
It's ‘bout to get real ugly, Omarosa
YM vultures, there ain't a family doper
We done changed the way the game look, Sammy Sosa
This is life this ain't a job, the Audemars and Shapor
Just symbolize I go hard
Navy on Navy Camaro I did it all for the Yankees
Did it all for New York and this love no need to thank me, Millz

[Transition: T-Streets]
Now we gonna take to the West Coast, Tyga, Tyga

[Verse 3: Tyga]
Uh, fast money, I don't slow dance
Young Money motherf*cker till the world end
Money overweight b*tch, Roseanne
I don't listen to these kids, grown man
Skinny n*gga dub doe, uh low hand
Lindsey the white Benz, same color Mike skin
Make your soul spin when the ping load in
Au revoir, goodbye, now applaud

[Transition: T-Streets]
Yeah, now it’s child’s play, n*gga
My lil' G, Lil' Chuckee

[Verse 4: Lil Chuckee]
Young Money lil' G, battle juice in my blood
Jumpin' at the boy, man, you better have your bungee cord
Since Wayne took me off the leash, I ain't lose a fight yet
Now come drag your dog out the ring how he love that
Young with an attitude, watch how you talk to me
Keep playin' Freddy boy, I'll leak on your Elm Street
Trouble is what you want dog, pain is what you don't get
It's Young Money till the bone gristle, ya dig

[Transition: T-Streets]
Now we got the hottest n*gga on the internet
Lil' Twist Hefner, what it do?

[Verse 5: Lil Twist]
Uh! Young Money, good night
And yeah I'm gonna shine like an ultra violet light
Lil' Twist gonna sell out like it's opening tonight
Going for the 1st n*gga to write, you need a telescope sight
To try to see me, I'm so far gone
Even though I'm goin' off kids, I'm so far on
I got a house full of chicks like the Playboy home
Wrappin' up my lifestyle and I smashed this song, Twizzy

[Transition: T-Streets]
Yeah, next up, we got the best rapstress alive, Nicki Minaj

[Verse 6: Nicki Minaj]
I'm in that cotton-pickin' Bent, put massa on the guts
White on white whips, Kunta Kinte on the clutch
You at the bottom of the pole, totem
Like Lamar Odom, I ball, scrotum
Flyer than a cricket so they call me Nicki Jiminy
And it's going down like Santa in the chim-i-ney
You don't ball, break your baby back ribs
You need more assist than the handicapped kids, oh, sh*t

[Transition: T-Streets]
And now, the beautiful Miss Shanell

[Verse 7: Shanell]
Young Money we’re rockstars
So f*ck with your Magnum on
And hold on, we go long
You feel that, we get that
We in that, we run that, we bust back
We hit them and we see them comin' back for more
Back for more

[Transition: T-Streets]
Next up, my n*gga Mack Maine, Stupid Mack Nupid, one hundred

[Verse 8: Mack Maine]
Microwave family in the buildin', you can't hold us
Me, Taz, and Wayne, we the three new moguls
Buffet around here, ya'll boys scrape the plates
And we don't eat up in our whisper they got paper plates
Soon as we leave the club, damn there the models go
One word I forgot to say on his album, Hollygrove!
This track is the finale, nah, this the genesis
Young Money murderers, we killin' sh*t, forever

[Transition: T-Streets]
Toronto, Drizzy, get ‘em

[Verse 9: Drake]
Alright I got this, you can never get this
I built it up from nothin', you would think I'm playin' Tetris
Thousand-dollar sweater on but I don’t never sweat sh*t
Swear the beats they give me got a motherf*ckin’ death wish
Yeah, tell me who controls kings
I don't follow rules, stupid old things
I'm flyin' through the city in a coupe with those wings
And my team deserves some motherf*ckin' Super Bowl rings
Young Money

[Transition: Crowd]
Wee-zy! Wee-zy! Wee-zy! Wee-zy!

[Verse 10: Lil Wayne]
I'm so in this b*tch, CEO in this b*tch
Lil Weezy stand tall, tippy-toe in this b*tch
Blood Gang, motherf*cka da da doe in this b*tch
Make your girl get Barry Manilow in this b*tch
In the body of the world, money is the blood
And everyday I be back and forward to the blood bank
Uh, makin' deposits till I f*ckin' faint
New Orleans, n*gga: how about them f*ckin' Saints?
It's tight on our end, call that Bubba Franks
Matter of fact it's too tight, add a couple links
I'm the bar’s tender, you a woman drink
Yeah, it's Young Money, but the money ain't
Gudda tough, Nelly nice, Nick nasty
Streets bad, Tyga ill, Drake magic
Millz Harlem, Chuck wild, Twist Dallas
And Mack Maine rap, sing and manage, uh
It's Young Moolah Baby

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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