Boo - Young Money lyrics

[Verse 1: Curren$y] Curren$y the hot spitta, fast life, slow flow Lost a couple, that ain't sh** I got more H-O-E-Z's n***a you know me b**hes talk sideways, get smacked the f** 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 f** 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 ba*tard, 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 a** n***a and these crooked a** cops f** 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 sh**, and still turn bricks like backflips Young Money be the circle that I ride for n***a we live to stay fly on you a**holes 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 sh** that a thug be bout Now let these things rain out YM b**h 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 sh** 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 b**h I got the Dorsett AR-33 shooting like a Cowboy, tryna see Red Skin b**h I'm fly, I'm skyborn Young Ozzy Osbourne, floating like a cloud boy Got them b**hed piled up Moving like a plow truck With they're f**ing mouths up South Up!