Young Money, syrup in the big shot
Time to do the thing thats word to your wrist watch
Shoot the glock till it burn till my wrist lock
Rims hella big tires skinny like Chris Rock
Ho hold the gun sideways like o'dogg
Shoot a n***a in his face knock his nose off
Make the girls say my name like a roll call
Pain k**ers got a n***a bout ta doze off
Big sh** n***a talk big sh** n***a
Big bread bread like a picnic n***a
Shake the whole game like the hit stick n***a
Money spread like germs get sick n***a
Yea, And f** them other n***as,
1 nine hundred who want it I deliver
Concrete shoes wont help in the river
I don't care if you was Michael Phelps my n***a
I'm higher than a mothaf**a Alps my n***a
I'm flier than a mothaf**a stealth my n***a
Young Money sh** top shelf my n***a
We the mothaf**as like Milf my n***a
Uh umm, Flow like Syringes
Yea I'm in my mode got a code like Da Vinci
I wan in the trenches, now I'm in the Trump
And everybody watch your back,wen your in the front
You ain't never safe stop playin' with a gangsta
Bring it to his face and he ran like a flanker
Bend the girl over put her hands on her ankles
I'm all over this ice cream beat like sprinkles
Why thank yous,if you a hater
I'm eatin', yous a waiter
Pistol on my hip, Tomb Raider
Holla at your guala, zoom later
Young Tune n***a, typhoon n***a
And if you think its sweet, buy a room n***a
Damu n***a, I'm on my gang sh**,
She give me good brain like she studied at Cambridge
Lightin' up a mothaf**ing blunt,
Stupid fruity swag like a mothaf**a runt
And I'm with my dog like mothaf**ing hunt
Everyday of the week is the first of the month
Audemar Piguet with the diamonds in the face
Cant tell the time cause the diamonds in the face
We can get it poppin' like a semi automatic
And if you got beef I put the biscuit on the patty
Rockstar tatted, big money addict
Running this sh** now I'm feelin' athletic
I I'm on a boat b**h, gettin' sea sick
Stop playin' I'm fresher then a degree stick
Street sh**, well of course, I smoke mare weed
I'm on my high horse, please dont shoot me down, I land feet flat
Then walk a million miles with New Orleans on my back
Haha, I need a ma**age,
And when it comes to hoes man I got a collage
Finger on the bu*ton, n***a just stuntin'
If you ain't the bank teller dont tell me nothin'
Kush so strong you can smell me coming
b**h I go hard like the boy from 300
You think ya kick it,well boy we puntin'
Young Money baby we the sh** weak stomachs
No Ceilings, mothaf**a'