Lyrics:
the Master Gee
Well, my name is known all over the world
By all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls
I'm goin' down in history
As the baddest rapper there
trips on a plane
Yeah why
Can you by a diamond ring
Yeah why
Can you do the damn thing
Yeah why
I can't spend bills I don't know my investment
Say you got
me what you all about
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By
a low profile girl smile
Throw a chick back like a blue print trial
Now you 'n' me can drink some Hennessy
Then we get it on
Mad women wantin to bone
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
blue bills
We got them rockets and our pocket so lil homie be chill
Fill a wood up with sticky so we all get pilt
I be in my own lane can you catch my
Salaah!
Big body Benz swerving both lanes
Fresh blue bills got bloodstains
I'm a coke boy, came up out the dope game
Cops come, I tell them no names
the flow
Whatever's required, I got it goin' for the low
I parted ways with my old self, I'm a new man
New face with a new stone and the blue van
Blew
your sword straight, maintain your weight
But he ate too much monosodiumglutumate, and polysorbate
And drug rate concentrate, with sodium benzoate
By
that you-ing nigga next up is J-are
[Pimp C]
Tell yah Lil' J is down wit us
The boy Big Chief is down wit us
The nigga California is down wit us
just what a woman need
Keep a big bank roll and a bag of weed
When it's time to go down they ain't scared to freak, shit
(That's what I'm looking for)
as you hear is a pow,
It's them boy's in blue,
And they and they gunning for you.
They cooking up bro's like gumbo soup,
If you ain't hear it by now you
Gold bottles by the caseload, drip on halo, pockets on preach
Being broke so retro, snaps on the petro, never on E
Top down in the heights, another
album finna drop
Know these hoes shit flop
Diddy bop on a weak hoe
And I get it by the week hoe
Catch me in the streets hoe
Slide down yo block, best
she wont let me, she flexin, I kno that she will
Im chasin my dream, a nigga need blue and that green what you thought it was teal
I drip they want
Hundreds Hundreds Blue bills
Yeah
Molly X Blue pills
Yeah
Good coke Cheap Thrills
Yeah
Too turnt No chill
Aye
I got no chill I got no chill
I got no
better blue tennis shoes tidy, with our body
As I fall into the Mack 10 listenin party
Got greeted by some niggas who I never knew
Cold thing
I run up these hunnits all i want is blue bills
I’m with a bad bitch and she off an X pill
All she ever wanna do is fuck like bitch chill
I’m just
taste of fashion, and she kinda classy
Why don't you drop it low for me girl when I ask it
Yeah, I got a pocket full of hunned dollar bills
If you want
so live
Won't come down
We up there
Up there
Up there
Up there
Hold that
Right there
Big shine
No glare
I been
Bout mine
Where yours
Don't care
On my
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
a low profile girl smile
Throw a chick back like a blue print trial
Now you 'n' me can drink some Hennessy
Then we get it on
Mad women wantin to bone
ain't bein' distracted by nothin'
Migits size to dekemba
I ain't back up from nothin'
Moms still stressin'
It ain't the kids its the bills stressin'
She
and get lifted,
Then connect the track with my soul,
Then I'm chasing down the big city lights,
Till I'm swerving out of control Yeah,
I grind from Monday
.jpg/259px-Big_Bill_Broonzy_(1951_publicity_photo).jpg "Big Bill Broonzy")
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