Lyrics:
(Shake it, shake it)
76 degrees night light Gipp
Mrs. Lady I get you out the cry like a florist pick a tulip
She persuaded my intervention
Kept my
I get me the tattoo of your lips on my ass
I'ma be literally pickin' up and deliberately whippin' the Statue of Liberty at you
Woo
Fuck it
Got
and i'm piping all night
In the morning got to get out of sight
I'm selling the blue and i'm doing it right
Blow on her face, Gustavo Fring
Cooking up meth
This is a request Mr. Radio Man
Just one desire from a hip-hop fan
Hey DJ, you're on the line, girl
Hey DJ, on the request line, girl
Play a record by my
Yooooo
Its Mr.CatchMeIfYouCan
Trynna make this ginger bread
Boy i been the man
Stop playing
How you hating and a fan
Im leveling up
You understand
Mr Big Mr Big
They call me Mr Big that's what they call me
Serving on that white girl, trunk filled up with Halsey
Say you getting money like lil
whip we bump, homie, stand up
We back on the block, get your hands up
You're dazed up and baked up
One little hit from the kush, you're spaced out
the private room I'm tryn see sumin
The booty hit a lil different when the bag jumpin
Turn it up a bit I bet I make it drip drop
By the end I bet I end up
lil' bitch, please
Tun', they pussy in a can, Friskies (yo)
I got ten up on my pinky ring and twenty on my bracelet
Now these niggas kissing ass,
It's like I've become more of an idiot
With every extra million I get
I thank God for my family and my crew 'cause I can be a lot to put up with
Much
lil bitches better get right
Y'all lil bitches better get right
Y'all lil bitches better get right
Y'all lil niggas better get right
I Keep my pimp hand
get up, open supermarket
All I see is flour and biscuit
Me cyaan' get no flour inna brown paper bag
Say, all I see is the plastic bag
Mr. Chin
sister was ready to bomb her! Get off the dizznik, and up off my voice
Me and my boyz give us a choice how could you ever
Tell Sony that I was the only
to the hook and I
Get back at you in five" because
Hey lil mama
It's Young Money you heard about it
It's like a fairytale book and pokin' out it
And I ain't
Oh yea
How you doing Mr. Bossman
Yessir
Mr. Bossman, yea
Mr. Bossman
Mr. Bossman, yea
Mr. Bossman
I been busy making music
Turning up my
that I bring
Cats don't earn the shit that I burn
Lil' nigga standin' tall and be firm
It's either us done with them or get served
Keep tryna align
John Adams:
All right, gentlemen, let's get on with it
Which of us will write our Declaration of Independence?
Mr. Adams, I say you should write
bitches
Get off your ass and go get you some digits
Up off the med it be feeding my system
No limit this shit like we never gon' end it
Bitch I'm like
just forgave you, forgave you
Now you're fucked up and you're run down
But I still wish that you were driving by my side of town
No more wishing on your
'm filling up the bleachers now with this lil' crowd
Homie what goes up must come down
I'll probably go up but I ain't coming back down
I told them that
listen
You shitting or pissing
You ain't missing nothing important
Bitch it's a blessing
That through all the stressing
I get to take
What I imagine
a good man, how 'bout that?
No way in hell I'm defined by the stat
Smokin' that pack, let me get it back
Let me get up in it, let me hit it like that
to jelly
Ever since i got my racks up niggas trynna come and kick it lionel messi
Shawty know she be petty got a lil spanish mami givin head like a becky
bustin straight convict kamakazi
Through your hood, get your strap, get your bat
Mothafukkas get your gat
[Mr. Shadow]
It's like that, G's like us run up
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