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National Anthem

Sir Mix-A-Lot

Seminar

1989

downtown, the sight was set
I saw my home boys mother with a buggy and a bag
People walk by, laughin at poverty
I looked in her face and I soon saw me

(Fuck it let me get a bottle)
(She said she want it by tomorrow)
(Pull out umbrellas when the shit hit the fan)
(I'm the man with the hundreds in his

It's about twenty-k in my Bathing Ape shorts
I run it up when them bags hit the porch
Had a plug I used to meet at the port
VVS on my neck bitch I

to say
And I just went four for four
I put that shit all in a pack, that's a biggie bag
Imma go hundred for hundred
If I drop a hundred then you know we

Why you still here with four figures
Man fuck out my business
Talking bout sacks when I'm handling bags
Talk about meeting like bitch where you at?

play by the rules, I be finessing the game
100 clips to yo head, we jus' do it clean no trace
Arhn
Deedadeey
Ghetto vigilante
Free my country
Streets

a killing or 2
Chilling by the fire riding in coupes
She want to fuck with the bad man
Pounds of mota in a trash bag
She want to hang in the trap
She

I just sold some green to a white bitch
I could show you how to bag a fine bitch
I got hundreds in that ear I bet you like this
Man I swear this reel

been in my bag
Catch me outside you know I never lack
Adding this money I wanna see 100 bands
Don't want you're love I wanna pack you're mans

man
Ride in a foreign
Got me a red bone 
She know her place 
Thick in the waist 
That’s my little bae 
Me and my niggas 
Count hundreds blue faces

booming, I be bugging with the prepaid
Geeking off this jigga man, I love it off the rozay
I'm that Migo that you call to get it gone by the morning
If you

Don't act like you was always with me
I know the difference between 100 and 50
If I was to slip out my bag
Lose everything I had
And you showed me your

wasn't even bad enough

I told a shorty, man, go on and just pack it up
Now I'm gettin' all this cash,  watch me  bag it up
Sippin' on the lean shit, got

i'm the man

I jump out the benz 
Got me some hundreds
Don't need me no friends
Good with the numbers
And Scaling the grams
Fuck going broke 
This 40

of their own, man of their own)

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Fresh to death in Mo-schi no, coach bag
Lookin' half black and Filipino
Fakin' no jacks
Got you a beeper

American Dream

Young Jeezy

Pressure

2017

(yeah) (dream baby)
Uh, uh, yeah, let's go

I just want a big ol' bag of money when I see my jeweler (yeah)
Get a hard-on when I'm countin' up that

where i kept hope
Till they passed me by
Weed smell to strong aint got colgne the bag keep screaming come find
My head and palms like when pussy palmed
So

want it
I put all the bag in my business
I went broke and I did the shit again
(MAGIC)
Working the way that I do you would think a nigga was a wizard by

since they drove down my block carrying Biggie's urn
From up the block, 'cross the street by the store
When my man was put in position, told him peep

(Papers)
Man a nickel back we had nickel bags and we all was fighting them cases
(Got cases on cases)
Now buying bottles that's basic (That's basic)
Now

away, White mansion White House by the Bay  
Gucci bag with the color three-way, new diamonds new carrots on plate 
Look good when we link up, lights

put one in his fitted 

Send 100 shots at him 

Leave car his car leanin like it’s off switches dem niggas ain’t stepping man dem str8 Bitches Mannn Fck

My og raised some hustlas
By any means imma double up
At 14 I was cutting up
All I wanted was a 100 bucks
Brody taught me how to get it had to run it

on now 
We gettin that bag now 
These niggas 
Don't want no smoke we spray a hundred rounds 
Nigga play walkem down 
These niggas be running they mouth