Lyrics:
trying to wake you up
At your wake motherfucker
Black mass, black gloves, duct tape, AK
We always do it big around here baby ba-by!
That's dem Miami boyz
To make up for what you can't do on record
Open your eyes twice the size and realise
I'm on the rise and you're on the demise
Ostracized by my reprise
Step
love rich, cause I'm hood rich
Your girl call me GD I got that good dick
Fucked up, coupe big, polo stupid
Brown shirt, brown man, same color roof in
that can't keep they cool
Cause I stay G'd up like
The first week of school
Broke girls, I take 'em to the Section 8
Where I pass the dick around
Like
there go bad azz
G'd up looking good shinning in a race car
Rims so big on that bitch look like a fake car ha ha ha
You niggas ya'll gone hate me now
But, my fist up, rock star sign
Guitars just broke, in my mind
Was packing up, I might get by
Talking bout luck, on my side oh
Take a walk in my
thirty-eight
Revenge is a bitch, and my hit shake the murder rate
Word to the mutha, I'm touched
When moms come by, niggas hush or get rushed
Maybe one day
listen up as we begin
Aiyyo Fuze rub the record in
[Repeat x4]
'Cause you ain't heard nuttin this funky
The definition of a rhyme breeder, beat
hatin' on the low though
We gon' get by, we gon' get high
Roll up all this weed, blow that shit up in the sky
Gotta vision, baby, I'ma chase until my times
a nigga could catch me re'd up
Them white folks know the code so we G'd up
And my Range Rover four-door be D'd up
Tattoos and new cars and these project
own
And we can’t trade ideas, unless its ‘bout blue notes
To get up in that bag, you gotta come out them clothes
Don’t forget you working bitch, wipe
We gone get three million
We gone have three Ferraris, and three mansions
Sauce splashing and dancing, Oowee
RB, fuck you talm' bout
Pull up and get
Langda nai din tenu vekhe bin day by day Munda bank karda
Lakk lakk lakk tera jump karda mundeya de dil billo pump karda
Nikale tu gharo jado dolled up
You wanna front, what? Jump up and get bucked
If you're feeling lucky duck, then press your luck
I snatch fake gangster MCs and make 'em faggot
Been overlooked, been slept on
Been started but I just keep going
Been up, been down
Payed dues, earned stripes
Been in lawsuits, welcome to my
think about you and I G'd up in the G-Wagon?
Even when we never had a penny, yeah, we always had spirit
They can bun my flesh, but they can't touch my
the fagget
Lets get dashed and crunk
I was lifted by a precher
So my mom pushed weight
Now I hooked up wit game
Real nigga with flame
He show me cali
the fagget
Lets get dashed and crunk
I was lifted by a precher
So my mom pushed weight
Now I hooked up wit game
Real nigga with flame
He show me cali
I wanna boom bang bang with your body yo (Mohombi, Marshall)
We're gonna rough it up before we take it slow
Girl, lemme rock you, rock you like
out to all the refugee gangs around the world
Signal, signal, y'all need to chill with the drive-by's
It was the fourth of July I heard the cherry bomb
oodles of noodles (woo)
And testing me is like pitbulls put up to poodles
My rap career goes back further than yo' father hairline
It's Ludacris
their ears, I got a perfect licking mind
Bout to slide by their crib, point it out and put you down
Take what you want, tie they ass up
Just don't, get,
it by the hundreds.
Young Money this aint new.
You just got up on it.
I'm Big Willy chillin nigga you just little homie.
I just flew Paris Gordon
to rest by the one you thought was workin' with yah
War ready, the game just wanna take my life
War ready, pussy boy we all could die tonight
War ready,
.jpg/217px-Arena_Corinthians_Opening_(cropped-Pitbull).jpg "Pitbull")
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