Flashy Cars Movie Stars lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
Yeah, welcome world, it's the H
Hustling, trap stars, rap stars
Big money popping, boy
Grinding, sun up, sun down
Put your life down for a nigga
Head first for this chubby
Flipping chickens
Hard body all the time
Fully loaded strap all the time
Money on the mind all the time
I tell me niggas, it's double MG, YMCMB
And money is the motivation
Everyday we wake up
Before the motherfucking eyes closed
Eat while we sleep
Eat while we don't even eat
You understand me, my nigga?
Rozay, stunna man
Richer than the riches
Bosser than the bosses
Modern tine, and we them niggas, yeah
We see past the future
Swag on the hundred, bitch game terrific
Size mat guarantee you to loose nigga
It's bigger than life boy
Mastermind to masterpiece
Hard life living, mansion top floor nigga
Paradise on earth boy
Million dollars and hundreds
A billion in the mind
Put your life on it
Take care of your team homie
Fulfill your dreams, homie
Nothing come between that
And keep your strap on you, H
Yeah, it's the realest shit in the streets, nigga
This that H, it's that real H Town nigga shit, takin' an eighth
Hustler music
Believe that, you feel me?
Birdman Ricky Rozay
Yeah it's the realest shit in the streets, nigga
This that H, it's that real H town niggas shit taking over
It's that classic shit, volume one, lost tape
Believe that, you feel me?
Niggas made 500 hundred dollars of a gram, nigga
Birdman, Ricky Ross - shit coming back straight
DJ Khaled, let's go
Times get hard, still gotta play your cards
Judge wanna judge me like he playing God
You know how them thugs be like you playing hard
Nigga 19 with 25 so he start
Cars in the yard
While you drive a yacht
It ain't been a month and your hoes falling off
No collect calls, not to mention all your dogs
They pray you take a plead
When you tryna stand tall
So much stress on your mama, daddy been gone
Put your hands on your daughter, look what daddy did wrong
In other games, when you live, you learn
In this game of life nigga, when you fail, you burn
I done took a loss, but I had to bounce back
The h is for the hustle, now can you pronounce that
Nigga, can you pronounce that
The h is for the hustle, now can you pronounce that
Flashy cars, movie stars, bounce back nigga, hustling hard
I stay fresh with the Gucci on
Ross fresh with the Louie on
Duffle bag full, high in the hood
We all good, fully loaded like we know we would
Get money like I know I could
Old school new school with the cherry wood
See I'm killing ass whip, stay strapped all time
Keep a bad bitch with me riding all the time
Fly all the time, get it all the time
Right between my eyes, tat cross soldier signed
Like money in the world, no money like money in the world
Get money like money in the world
We the business with that 'pearl, bitch
Straight back with that H town
My little nigga know the town, so we shut it down
On the grind, uptown with my crown
Anywhere I go nigga, I'ma lay it down
Sipping red champagnia
Every hoe I know know money be swanging
Keep the 2L, then bang out
Get the money nigga, fly in and fly out
Flashy cars, movie stars, bounce back nigga, hustling hard
I stay fresh with the Gucci on
Ross fresh with the Louie on
Duffle bag full, high in the hood
We all good, fully loaded like we know we would
Get money like I know I could
Old school new school with the cherry wood
We the best in the bizz, pas that it is
He gave his best to his bitch, I invest in a bitch
Hand on the bible, won't tell a lie
I be lying if I said that I won't sell the pot
Success ain't promised, tryna stay alive
Ross and Birdman, 'til the day we die
Lives on the line, no lives on the mike
Used to be white, north bound on the pike
Niggas red in my blood, just what I pump blood
12 o clock for the day, what I bump for
To the cuts getting money what we live for
Light it up nigga, this my beat plug
I feel good about now, 150 on the chain right now
An extra clip ready to bang right now
Quarter mill on the Bentley right now, nigga
Flashy cars, movie stars, bounce back nigga, hustling hard
I stay fresh with the Gucci on
Ross fresh with the Louie on
Duffle bag full, high in the hood
We all good, fully loaded like we know we would
Get money like I know I could
Old school new school with the cherry wood
Betty Stout lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
[Rick Ross:]
Indictment will take a life line to take a lifetime
For them equal fees, your money better be like mine
The feds offer a twenty, he was still in denial
With the trial lost it, tried to grab it but couldn't make a sound
Indictment will take a life line to take a lifetime
For them equal fees, your money better be like mine
The feds offer twenty, he was still in denial
With the trial lost it, tried to grab it but couldn't make a sound
Chocking of the facts, eyes full of tears
The mama's only son just got his cell fifty years
And the game don't stop, baby mama still fuck
The discovery fit an angel, would've killed, fuck
Now you can't cry, you're through your old flicks
Brother on your daddy's side now fucking your main bitch
Appeal been denied, no fulfillment in life
It's the life of the party popping pills in the night
Now it's five by seven, knives and weapons, lies and deception
Lose your life in this sector
[Birdman:]
See the game, what's the price
High rolling was the dice
Money like a motherfucker, shot 'em all night
Situation bad, pistol on his ass
Come up hard, we had to mash on the gas
Muscle was the come up, gang was the struggle
Came from nothin', made something into bubble
Did it real big just for the hustle
Got a lot of it on another level
[Birdman:]
The precious jewels, what's the price? Your loving life
We did it right and got rich up on the hot lights
Aren't you the hustle, new above the times
So we did it a little time, got back up on the grind
New about the soldiers, raise from the soldiers
Gave 'em all the game, how to be a high roller
Duckin' fucking people with this presidential sight
Got a bitch that night, put her on the same flight
The same type of nigga that would put it in her life
Talk from the old G to head five stripes
You is just a fiend just like a dope fiend, shoot up in your veins
Lick it clean with a triple beam
Higher than life, green on a candy slab
Take a shower, what's jumping off the duffle bags
See the game, what's the price
High rolling was the dice
Money like a motherfucker, shot 'em all night
Situation bad, pistol on his ass
Come up hard, we had to mash on the gas
Muscle was the come up, gang was the struggle
Came from nothin', made something into bubble
Did it real big just for the hustle
Got a lot of it on another level
[DJ Khaled:]
We the biggest hustlers in the game
Rick Ross, Birdman, DJ Khaled
Pop That Pussy lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
Pop that, pop that, pop that, pop that
Pop that pussy and shake that ass
Pop that pussy and shake that ass
Pop that pussy and shake that ass
It's money everywhere
It's money everywhere
It's money everywhere
[Rick Ross:]
Grab that big bitch if you a thick bitch
She fuck with three niggas, she a slick bitch
She got two phones, want a new home
She got the best hair, they got the boy gone
But I'm so trill, didn't pay her rent
I paid the light bill, did it like a pimp
Call me Double R, I got the Rolls Royce
This is Ricky Ross, still a hoe's choice
[Birdman:]
Yeah, Birdman, bitch, you know I'm with G
Mr. Money Tree, mama, you know I'm a beast
Eagle in these streets, you know I'mma eat
Stay fresh, so fly nigga, roll with new feats'
My baby is a gangsta, got hips and she fine
Tattoo her mind, do it all the time
Fuck her from the back 'cause she like the sunshine
Get mine, take mine, cook it how I like mine
Pop that pussy and shake that ass
Pop that pussy and shake that ass
Pop that pussy and pop that pussy
And pop that pussy and shake that ass
[Rick Ross:]
It's so easy, I'm so cheesy
These hoes slime me, I'm so greasy
I don't love y'all, time to get home
I get naked and count money, I'm so raw
The Glock black, the rims chrome
The fierce man, I've been strong
This bitch bad, her legs long
This bitch bad, let's see her at home
See, I fuck them in my helicopter
With my old chopper
Knew the bitch want it so I wouldn't even stop her
Pulled off in that brand new Range
Let the hoe give me brains, counting money, moving things
Back in my old school with my old jewel
The hoe got hot, broke me off, had to move
G4 flying, you know I got slim
Baby fat, baby know how I like them
Pop that pussy and shake that ass
Pop that pussy and shake that ass
Pop that pussy and pop that pussy
And pop that pussy and shake that ass
[Rick Ross:]
You see 'em be, the money cash
Don't take checks, only money bags
We dope boys, the money fast
She love toys, she coming fast
She got the titty job, the ass shots
She get your money and she mash up
I'm in the stash house where the cash at
You broke niggas
[Birdman:]
See, I'm an uptown gangsta, got the game from some gangsters
Got the game 'cause I'm thinking that we hitting and we banking
Bitch banking, rinse 'em while they sinking
Took the nigga bitch, now we roll his red mannequin
The big funds, nigga with them big guns
She like real niggas, nigga, so she got one
You know what I'm saying? Bitch, come and get some
Five star condo, ocean view, own one
Pop that pussy and shake that ass
Pop that pussy and shake that ass
Pop that pussy and pop that pussy
And pop that pussy and shake that ass
Why lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
[Birdman:]
Something so fresh
Rolling in my caddy nigga, got my Smith and Wess
Feeling so nice, bubbly so right
Burning on the kush, do it all night
Money is a must, fucking with them hoes
Duffle bag full, platinum rock gold
Got to get the full, got to get the dough
Sittin' all high, riding on the low
Get money, baby
I feel it, feeling how I gotta feel
I'm so high, I got the hard knock from the feel
For real nigga, ride around with the steel
That's how I live, nothing changed, how I bill
How I was built, the life of a struggler
Got the game nigga, so the money was that hustle
I see moms want new shoes
Moms gotta give everything she want to
[Rick Ross:]
Don't make me a villain, is an atheists sinning
Bathing naked in the winter
Tryna taste me a million
Me and bird had a vision, tryna stay out of prison
Gun charge, I don't bug, gotta make a decision
Flooded the Audemar, I bought another car
I had to celebrate, blew a hunned large
I'm looking at a yacht, they wishing it was stuck
When I was at the bottom, staring at the top
It was easy then, they didn't see me then
Now they see me selling DVDs for these dividends
The bricks built wall street, looking for that H, I'm straight
Just call me the boss
[Birdman:]
Something so fresh
Rolling in my caddy nigga, got my Smith and Wess
Feeling so nice, bubbly so right
Burning on the kush, do it all night
Money is a must, fucking with them hoes
Duffle bag full, platinum rock gold
Got to get the full, got to get the dough
Sittin' all high, riding on the low
Get money, baby
Nigga I'm in the caddie out the hella chopper
Two choppers nigga and it won't stop us
I hear em poppin' off at the mouth
But money, money pops at the mouth
We keep the work in the trash can
Keep the garbage bag full with the cash man
Keep the tool nigga just to rule
5 star G break em down nigga don't do
And stay up like a high jet
So high, so high nigga, what's next?
So we're feeling when we come down
Shit down nigga represent uptown
Uptown flashing my shit
Red bandanna for the dead and another clip
Split nigga never change that, hunned stacks in the cash bag nigga like that
Duffle bag full, come through nigga
Bitches know the game so they want too nigga
Floss my shit nigga clip another bitch
Up in the morning nigga hustle for the licks
Something so fresh
Rolling in my caddy nigga, got my Smith and Wess
Feeling so nice, bubbly so right
Burning on the kush, do it all night
Money is a must, fucking with them hoes
Duffle bag full, platinum rock gold
Got to get the full, got to get the dough
Sittin' all high, riding on the low
Get money, baby
Sun Come Up lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
Bird, park that body, nigga
Let's take 2 or 3 of dem shits to da head, nigga
What!
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
'Til the sun come up, 'til the feds run up
[Rick Ross:]
Life in the fast lane, been scared of airplanes
Comfortable on jets, hoes better learn my last name
Yey in the carry-on, that I'm 'bout to carry on
After all the deals, I still deal and carry on
Versus the past, we all shed tears
That's why I pop pills, the end so near
The crackas don't work, niggas just snitch
Lose trial, that's a bitch, nigga go sit
Three hots in the car, where the surf 'n' turf
Three blocks in the car, I'm gettin' what it's worth
From the boss to the bottom, top off the Phantom
Buyin' up the bar so the ladies gettin' at him
[T-Pain:]
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
'Til the sun come up, 'til the feds run up
(We hustle on)
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
'Til the sun come up, 'til the feds run up
[Glasses Malone:]
You see my eyelids fallin', but sleep prolong
Daddy can't sleep 'til this work all gone
Drub broke down, 10028 zone
I'm seeing new trucks over 28's chrome
Brand new Benz is 600 ponies
Candy on the bitch, candy on the coat
Dreams so sweet now, it's my reality
Nigga don't bite 'cause you might get a cavity
Now hold me down, clown, call that gravity
Stash so dumb, mine's ridin' shot gun
Doin' 90 down Crenshaw, gotta be careful
Or end up murdered like Cain causin' hell
[T-Pain:]
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
'Til the sun come up, 'til the feds run up
(We hustle on)
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
'Til the sun come up, 'til the feds run up
[Birdman:]
Youngin, this for the Bird Lady
SuWu, yeah nigga
Pontchartrain Beach, ocean, seas
Fleet, red CMB, UPT where I be comfortably
Louis with the suede on
Rockin' that jewels 'cause we paid homie
Laid on it, played on it
See a mill like nothing, how we weigh it homie
My honey, she know I'm good with the K
Doin' it how my niggas did it back in the day
Now my lil' nigga all good with the spray
Gettin' money everyday
[T-Pain:]
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
'Til the sun come up, 'til the feds run up
(We hustle on)
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
'Til the sun come up, 'til the feds run down
Don't Hustle Again lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
This shit classic, this H
This for all the hustlers
It's for the real ones
Money over the best pussy
Family over money, we hustling
[Rick Ross:]
Money that's my life, money that's my light
My money make me mad, my money make me right
My money make me laugh, my money make me cry
My money is my love, for money you will die
Illiterate thugs down for cigarette buzz
Minding my life in prison so I'm living it up
Red champagnia, to celebrate
Triple C CMB, we selling weight
Organized crime, organized mind
One bird call you shot 45 times
45 fully, fully automatic
Bitch is fully loaded, if you want it, you can have it
I'm 'a grind 'til my cheese straight
Thinking back to the days when my mama used to say
[Kevin Rudolf:]
I've got to hold on
Don't, don't hustle again
Hold on me, I've got to hold on
Don't, don't hustle again
'Cause I can't breathe
I've got to hold on, hold on, hold on
Me, I've got to hold on
Don't, don't hustle again
Don't, don't hustle again
[Birdman:]
800 milligram fresh from the pharmacy
Like Lucas, get it to the army
I keep sit on me, C.M.B. Cash Money is an army
So we flip em out the Jag, 200 on the dash
Bitch we mash, duffle bag full of cash
Louie V bag, 2 mill just to splash
See my homie beat one, nigga beat another one
Then the beat another one, then he beat another one
Then the beat another one, then he beat another one
Like money ain't shit, pop a few bottles nigga fuck another bitch
Celebrate for the licks, celebrate on chips
[Kevin Rudolf:]
I've got to hold on
Don't, don't hustle again
Hold on me, I've got to hold on
Don't, don't hustle again
'Cause I can't breathe
I've got to hold on, hold on, hold on
Me, I've got to hold on
Don't, don't hustle again
Don't, don't hustle again
[DJ Khaled:]
We're living legends
We're are cons
We're hustlers
This the H
[Kevin Rudolf:]
I've got to hold on
Don't, don't hustle again
Hold on me, I've got to hold on
Don't, don't hustle again
'Cause I can't breathe
I've got to hold on, hold on, hold on
[DJ Khaled:]
Birdman
Ricky Rozay
We're ouch yeah
[Kevin Rudolf:]
Me, I've got to hold on
Don't, don't hustle again
Don't, don't hustle again
Homey N Hoes lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
Hey you want me to mack you
Well, check this out baby
You was flying commercial when I met you baby
Yeah, bitch didn't even had a passport
But check this out
It's Ricky Ross, Maybach Music
And I wanna do something different today baby
I wanna know what qualify you to fuck with a nigga like myself
Why should you ride in that spaceship with a boss
You done all of that
All of that baby
And this and that
Talk to me
All you ever needed baby
Well check this out baby
This cash money, Maybach Music
You gotta admit you're a dime baby... true
I need to explore your mind baby, what's really cracking lately
I'm in the multiplication baby
You might eat Taco Bell before midnight
It's time to fuck with that prime 112 baby
Fuck with a hunned dollar salad
Tell me something good baby, talk to me
When you gonna put my album out?
What you mean your album?
I mean when you gon' make me a star
Check this out baby
You know you ain't focused on what you supposed to be
Focused there
You really, you worried about your album, and your publishing
And, when I signed you baby
I signed you for who you are
I didn't signed you for your publishing
And take advantage of your budgets
Well baby I need checks
Checks will soon come baby, just not right now
It's all about triller
CMB, Birdman, Ricky Ross
Baby keep your eyes on the prize
It's not a sunroof, I apologize
It's convertible
My life is astronomical
I'm not an astronaut baby
I just get high in the day
I need a car wash and a wax
These are simply facts, that I'm stating
The money and the making got me elevated
Elevators on my home, hoe I got it going on
I'm a G to the core, bitch hit the dome
It's 5 after
Am I what you desire baby?
Not hardly, cause what you driving
And what you eating, don't make me shit baby
You been watching too much TV baby
I'm just tryna get your pussy wet baby
All you gotta do to satisfy a real nigga
Is smile and keep your hair done, baby
You see it's Triple C, CMB
And for all you hoes out there that need motivation
You're fucking with entrepreneurs right now baby
Go buy yourself a pair of Birdman loaks
Buy that triller, buy that CMB catalogue baby
We been getting money a long way over there
I just wanna do some pimp shit
And fin to get records to the H presentation
And excuse me, I am high
Like I said baby this is a dealership, but we don't deal cars
No Hondas over here, hoe, you understand
You gotta pre-order these baby
A piano come with these, CMB, Triple C
Got A Bitch lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
[Rick Ross:]
Bitch, ain't it nothing but some motherfuckin' money over her
You understand me?
So you already know what time it is
You feel me?
You know what a nigga need baby
I ain't gon' play with ya
Don't waste my time, won't waste yours
Ya feel me? 'Cause I have enough hoes
Get in line
I got a bitch smokin' weed, a bitch snortin' powder
A bitch countin' money bagging a million every hour
Got a bitch in debt, a bitch gettin' stacks
The bitch love tats, CMB on her back
I got a bitch do frog, wanna see me live large
Smokin' like barb in my Versace drawers
Got a bitch on the phone, bitch doin' time
No cooperation so that bitch doing fine
I got a bitch in New Orleans, Bird hooked me up with
Keys to the crib, now its birds up in her shit
Bitch with a Honda, so that bitch can save
Lookin' like a saint, but a trunk full of H
Got a bitch in the Bay, she wanna fuck Khaled
Audition for the boss, let me see you talent
The bitch do tricks, the bitch do cane
She snort it off your dick right before she give you brain
[Birdman:]
Bitch I'm the shit, if you want shit
Shittin' on them heels, or shittin' in them bricks
Hit another lick, bitch we can split
H is the hustle fully loaded in this bitch
Bitch I'm the shit, if you want shit
Diamond around your neck, and Louis Vuitton for your trip
Flip another brick, shinin' in them bricks
H is the hustle, three quarters for a brick
Straight got a bitch uptown, move nothin' but brown
Holo on ground, keep a tool wear a crown
Got a bitch like weed, bitch snort D
Bitch count my money and she don't pop P
I got a bitch su-woo, true to what she do
She fuck with nothing but B's and she love what we do
Got a bitch in New York, know I love to fuck
Brought me a new Benz and a brand new truck
I got a bitch do it early, movin' them buerly's
Hit the hood quick nigga, servin' and swervin'
Got this bitch love red, that's how we plead
CMB down nigga, ready to spray it
Got a bitch in Miami ho, Ross hooked me up though
I ain't even tripping whoa, showed her some love though
Got this bitch up in Philly, I stop fuckin' with it
The ho bought me a Phantom, mother fuck the bitch
Bitch I'm the shit, if you want shit
Shittin' on them heels, or shittin' in them bricks
Hit another lick, bitch we can split
H is the hustle fully loaded in this bitch
Bitch I'm the shit, if you want shit
Diamond around your neck, and Louis Vuitton for your trip
Flip another brick, shinin' in them bricks
H is the hustle, three quarters for a brick
[Rick Ross:]
I got a bitch real slim, who wanna do films
If you go down on a boy I might go out on a limb
I got a bitch wear plex, or the bitch hair straight
I break a bitch harder than every bitch that I break
I got an R&B bitch, I got a rap bitch
Call her anime, 'cause I got a stack bitch
I got a bitch on her period, that's money loss
I'm out two for one ho, you fuckin' with a boss
[Birdman:]
I got a bitch from over seas, its legal where we be
Versace red, bitch a hundred G's
Burnin' on the beach, so them bitches see
Candy on the paint bitch you know its CMB
I got a bitch like an eagle, bitch with an eagle
Bitch get the money, bitch know my people
Bitch from uptown, know how we get down
Money on my mind bitch, blowin' out the pine
Bitch I'm the shit, if you want shit
Shittin' on them heels, or shittin' in them bricks
Hit another lick, bitch we can split
H is the hustle fully loaded in this bitch
Bitch I'm the shit, if you want shit
Diamond around your neck, and Louis Vuitton for your trip
Flip another brick, shinin' in them bricks
H is the hustle, three quarters for a brick
[DJ Khaled:]
This that 305, 504
504, 305 shit
This Birdman, Rick Ross
Lost Tapes, Volume 1 H
Addicted lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
[Rick Ross:]
I'mma tell you like this, nigga!
I got a hundred Gs on my line
I ain't eating Jacksons when I be in Overtown
Bitch I'm eatin' lavish, look up hoe, it's snowing now
I just throw the cabbage, C-M-B gon' hold me down
Got an odor in the attic, that's a couple pounds
New Rolex that I ordered, that's a hundred thou'
Time to milk the game, bitch, I went and bought a cow
My nigga GDK a goon, he'll gun you down
Slid up on em with the stick, yeah, I sat him down
My nigga Nut so slick, they ain't pat him down
I got a hundred niggas on my line
A hundred squares at a time
Nigga, hold it down
I'm addicted to money
I'm addicted to chips
My hoe was gay
Now she addicted to dick (bitch!)
Addicted to this
Addicted to that
I'm gettin' them stacks
It's more addictive than crack!
I'm addicted to money
I'm addicted to chips
My hoe was gay
Now she addicted to dick (bitch!)
Addicted to this
Addicted to that
I'm gettin' them stacks
It's more addictive than crack!
[Birdman:]
Give the homie 10.5, want 75 a hit
Whole thing straight raw, hundred Gs a brick
Hustling for a urge, moving them birds
Strapped in the cut, got em' posted on the curb
That H! We floodin' other states
That fishtail bake well, chop it in the plate
Them V12s move swell with the paper plates
The homie fully loaded, so we strapped with a case
Give you 10 squares for 750, nigga
No talking homie drop it, then go get it
On the island, nigga, fresh with a 450
Louis Vuitton'd down, nigga, strapped
Money how we livin'
[Rick Ross:]
I'm addicted to money
I'm addicted to chips
My hoe was gay
Now she addicted to dick (bitch!)
Addicted to this
Addicted to that
I'm gettin' them stacks
It's more addictive than crack!
I'm addicted to money
I'm addicted to chips
My hoe was gay
Now she addicted to dick (bitch!)
Addicted to this
Addicted to that
I'm gettin' them stacks
It's more addictive than crack!
[Birdman:]
See them fresh, ow... boss of the South, nigga
Boss out my mouth, nigga, boss, big house
Yeah... so we do it, no drought
No cost on your life when you're playing with the stripes
Five mics, fiver-timer OG Blood
Straight soldier, nigga, Third World G blood
Uptown nigga maxed out the work plug
Benz 5 switching lanes with them white dubs
[Rick Ross:]
Or them white fours, I'm ducking them white folks
Yeah, my pockets fat, I don't fuck with no lipo
I keep that chopper with me, I call it my Geico
Trigger hair pin, drop it and it might blow
I get them grenades, we call 'em Bye-Byes
It hit your Escalade, pussy nigga, bye-bye
Pussy nigga, bye-bye
Two-hundred on the dash, nigga, bye-bye
I'm addicted to money
I'm addicted to chips
My hoe was gay
Now she addicted to dick (bitch!)
Addicted to this
Addicted to that
I'm gettin' them stacks
It's more addictive than crack!
I'm addicted to money
I'm addicted to chips
My hoe was gay
Now she addicted to dick (bitch!)
Addicted to this
Addicted to that
I'm gettin' them stacks
It's more addictive than crack!
Money To Make lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross (feat. Mack Maine)
[Rick Ross:]
My niggas one hundred, my corner one hundred
The car cost a hundred, the drum hold a hundred
Just smoking my ganja, this joint cost a hundred
The Nikes cost a hundred, the ice in abundance
Now I'm fucking with H, can't be taking no shorts
We scoring the points, we done made it a sport
Scheduled to testify, never made it to court
I sprinkle pesticide, set a trap and you go
You can't be talking loud when you walking in the house
Fuck what you talkin' 'bout, bitch, you walkin' in and out
I ain't whipping no ounce, ain't touching no ounce
If you fuck with an ounce, get the fuck out the house
'Cause it's only squares when you come in here
So for all you squares, let me make it clear
Let me get it straight, I'm the fish in the tank
Not the fish in the tank
I got money to make
My niggas one hundred, my corner one hundred
The car cost a hundred, the drum hold a hundred
Just smoking my ganja, this joint cost a hundred
The Nikes cost a hundred, the ice in abundance
My niggas one hundred, my corner one hundred
The car cost a hundred, the drum hold a hundred
Just smoking my ganja, this joint cost a hundred
The Nikes cost a hundred, the ice in abundance
[Mack Maine:]
Real nigga in the building, where the work at?
That New Orleans Saints fitted, that's my work hat
My niggas got that H, Percs, white and purp
And they shoot off one leg, they awkward like Dirk
Thug life, thug life, bitch, I'm feeling like 'Pac
When I'm riding up your block
'Bout to release the 50 shots off top
You bitch here, you'll get your issue
Your family, they gon' miss you
They gon' find you, we ain't miss ya
Bury that boy with tissue since he was a cry baby
Your mami over your casket, asking "lord, why, baby?"
See I live in a world where they mistreat black babies
And in a hood that crack babies
Grow up just to jack babies
Bitch I'm from New Orleans, you can't come where I'm from
Got a drum on a caper, Pa-Rum-Pa-Pum Pum
Boy I ain't no fronter, it's Ross, Mack and Stunner
I put 50 on 50, that's why they call me one hundred
[Rick Ross:]
My niggas one hundred, my corner one hundred
The car cost a hundred, the drum hold a hundred
Just smoking my ganja, this joint cost a hundred
The Nikes cost a hundred, the ice in abundance
My niggas one hundred, my corner one hundred
The car cost a hundred, the drum hold a hundred
Just smoking my ganja, this joint cost a hundred
The Nikes cost a hundred, the ice in abundance
[Birdman:]
See we stunting, fuck with me, popping bottles, throwing money
Niggas giving headshots, bitch, no running
Them hundreds came fast, bitches came quicker
Wet candy paint sticky moving start dipping
We ran through the trenches, jumping over fences
Got it out the field, now my homies doing digits
Shinning on these bitches, after hour count tickets
Got it from my Gs, now we on another mission
We focus on another saddle, another batch
Another bird full of H, nigga, comin' like that
Slap back Caddy, dippin' while we droppin'
Blowin' while we counting, a hundred Gs in my pocket one M
[Rick Ross:]
My niggas one hundred, my corner one hundred
The car cost a hundred, the drum hold a hundred
Just smoking my ganja, this joint cost a hundred
The Nikes cost a hundred, the ice in abundance
My niggas one hundred, my corner one hundred
The car cost a hundred, the drum hold a hundred
Just smoking my ganja, this joint cost a hundred
The Nikes cost a hundred, the ice in abundance
Justice lyrics - Birdman & Rick Ross
[Rick Ross:]
Sometimes when I'm smoking that shit, right bird
Man you ever just pray my nigga
This for all the hustlers
Sometimes I get so high, I just pray my nigga
We hustling
I be coughing this shit, hustle
And I just be thinking bout
We blast off, God love us, my nigga
Real talk
Sometimes I recite song 27
The lord is my light and my salvation
Whom shall I fear?
Not nothing of these fucks
Coming up a nigga had to fight for everything
Now I'm at the fight 3 rows from the ring
Call some don king, on boats with Jay-Z
Looking at this picture, bitch better say cheese
Who shine like boss, a Birdman junior
We still got birds, don't let Birdman fool ya
We just so blessed, Lexus stretched
Tears in my eyes and I mean
The fam so trill, we just so rich
You could fuck my bitch, let me fuck your bitch
Sacks in the attic, Ciroc on the yachts
Knots in the pockets, Baleys, no socks
Cash is a heavy, monkey on my back
So I'm riding with my dog, with the chicken on my lap
Fascinated with the shine, get high off the H
Call you when I come down
[Birdman:]
Young gutter, been running for 10 summers
Bad bitches lust, you pay for pussy, they front us
Young boss talking, you lil niggas is runners
The deals that I'm aching to turn, my gun is the stunnest
It's lies that you speak, the truth lies in numbers
The wheels on the new coupe, humongous
Bet that, Maybach wet black
Curtains close on the motherfucker when I sit back
Yeah, got the game from the stunner man
Yeah, but I still keep it gutter man
Money wrapped up in a rubber band
Give it to my bitch, tell her blow a lane nothing down
Just a young nigga shitting, dumping
Maybach music in the Maybach bumping
GT vodka got me feeling right
Just a young nigga getting money man I'm living life
[Gudda Gudda:]
Oh you lil fresh lil fly like that nigga
H
Rest in peace to the rest in peace, nigga
Come through nigga when I came through shooting
Niggas popping off so I had to shoot him
Shot him up, pop it off, that's how we do it
Got the money moved out and that's how we do it
AK, I'm in the hallway, you niggas get sprayed
You niggas can't fade, get laid
A nigga get flayed
Fuck a nigga when we land, man we wet
Chop em all then we chopped up
Chopped up, got other niggas chopped up
Upstate nigga came together got bucked
Ain't nothing came so we did it, so we did us
Another night in the new bus
Smoke till we see dust
Another bitch and she on us
Ball till we can't flush
[DJ Khaled:]
This that H experience
This the volume one, lost tapes
These records was recorded years ago
Bitch we make time this music
Catch up, we hustlers
We winners, we rich, we the greatest
We the best, bitch we the business
We made it, we will never stop
Birdman, Ricky Rozay
Miami, new Orleans, every ghetto across the world
Every hood, every project
You feel the pain in the music
We out here, H
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