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    Young Money, syrup in the big shot
    Time to do the thing thats word to your wrist watch
    Shoot the glock till it burn till my wrist lock
    Rims hella big tires skinny like Chris Rock
    Ho hold the gun sideways like o'dogg
    Shoot a n-gga in his face knock his nose off
    Make the girls say my name like a roll call
    Pain killers got a n-gga bout ta doze off
    Big shit n-gga talk big sh-t n-gga
    Big bread bread like a picnic n-gga
    Shake the whole game like the hit stick n-gga
    Money spread like germs get sick n-gga
    Yeaa, And f-ck them other n-ggas,
    1 9 hundred who want I deliver
    Concrete shoes wont help in the river
    I dont care if you were Michael Phelps my n-gga
    Im higher than a mothaf-cka Alps my n-gga
    Im flyer than a mothaf-cka stilt my n-gga
    Young Money sh-t top shelf my n-gga
    We the mothaf-ckas like Milf my n-gga

    UhUhm, Flow like Syringes
    Yea im in my mode got a code like Da Vinci
    I wan in the trenches, now im in the trunk
    And everybody watch your back,wen your in the front
    You aint never safe stop playin with a gangsta
    Bring it to his face and he ran like a flanker
    Bend the girl over put her hands on her ankles
    Im all over this ice cream beat like sprinkles

    Why thank yous,if you a hater
    Im eatin, yous a waiter
    Pistol on my hip, Tomb Raider
    Holla at your guala, zoom later
    Young Tune n-gga, typhoon n-gga
    And if you think your sweet n-gga, buy a room n-gga
    Die or move n-gga, Im on my gang sh-t,
    She give me good brain like she studied at Cambridge
    Lightin up a mothaf-cking blunt,
    stupid fruity swag like a mothaf-cka runt
    And I be with my dog like a mothaf-cking huntin
    Everyday of the week is the first day of the month
    Audemar Piguet with the diamonds in the face
    Cant tell the time cause the diamonds in the face

    We can get it poppin like a semi automatic
    And if you got beef I put the biscuit on the patty
    Rockstar tatted, big money addict
    Running this sh-t now Im feelin athletic
    I Im on a boat bitch, gettin sea sick
    Stop playin Im fresher then a degree stick
    Street sh-t, well of course, I smoke mad weed
    Im on my high horse, please dont shoot me down,
    I land feet flat
    Then walk a million miles with New Orleans on my back
    Haha, I need a massage,
    and when it comes to hoes man I got a collage
    Finger on the button, n-gga just stuntin
    If you aint the bank teller dont tell me nuntin
    Kush so strong you can smell me coming
    B-tch I go hard like the boy from 300
    You think ya kick it,well boy we puntin
    Young Money baby we the sh-t weak stomachs
    No Ceilings.......Mothaf-cka

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    É permitida somente a visualização no site das letras de músicas encontradas aqui, vedada sua reprodução através de quaisquer outros meios (Lei 9610/98).Todas as letras de músicas são propriedade dos seus respectivos autores e divulgadas somente para fins educacionais.All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics are provided for educational purposes only.