Hit me
Pshh, right in the sternum this time, T-Baby
Shit, you already know, you already know, you already know
Damn
Shit, this that hustler music
Young Weezy got that motherfucking hustler music
So ride to it, y'all, vibe to it, y'all, damn

Goddamn, Mix done hit a nigga in his head with this one
I'ma paint the city red with this one
I'm ahead with this one
See, you're fucking with the boy who tote toys way before Christmas
No assistance, just that persistence with that commitment, if
I don't get it, somebody gon' die tonight
I know my vibe is tight and I deserve the throne
And if the kid ain't right, then let me die in this song
See, I be riding, just riding alone
With my daddy on my mind like, "You gotta be kidding"
How the hell you ain't here to see your prince do his thing?
Sometimes I wanna drop a tear, but no emotions from a king
Shall be, so I be who I be, that's me
That's Weezy F. Baby, and please say the motherfucking
So I be who I be, that's me
That's Weezy F. Baby, and please say the motherfucking

Baby, you gotta know that I'm just out here
Doing what I gotta do for me and you, and we eating
So, bitch, why the fuck is you tripping?
I'm taking these chances
My head to the sky, my feet on the ground
My fingers to the judge, if the money don't move
Then I won't budge, won't budge
No, I won't budge, no, Lord

Money is the motivation, facing the avenue
Back touching the wall, got the weed, got the gun
Gotta run when I hear the bird call (brr), damn (brr)
Hop in that thing and murk off, swerve off
You know me, they call me Birdman Junior (ah-ah)
Anybody murderer if Birdman sponsor it (for sure, nigga, get you, you heard?)
Phantom of the Opera, all black, guap tint, locked-in
I can let them shots out, you can't get no shots in
Bulletproof, leave a nigga with a bullet roof
Shoot you in your mouth, Leroy, they call him bullet tooth
I'm like, "What it do? What it do?"
There's a full-court pressure, I'm just going for the two
If I'm open for the three, I'ma take it in a second
Even if there's one second, I'ma make it, it's nothing
I don't take it for granted, I don't take it for nothing
I take it for what it's worth to the dirt, motherfucker, yeah

Baby, you gotta know that I'm just out here
Doing what I gotta do for me and you, and we eating
So, bitch, why the fuck is you tripping?
I'm taking these chances
My head to the sky, my feet on the ground
My fingers to the judge, if the money don't move
Then I won't budge, won't budge
No, I won't budge, no, Lord

I ain't never killed nobody, I promise
And I promise if you try me, he gon' have to rewind this track
And make me go back, that thing'll go rrat
That boy'll lay flat, so flat
That act is what I perform amongst you haters
Got Nina in my palm and I'm masturbating
Black Peter Pan, fly 'til I die, what you're saying?
Bathing Ape, Yves Saint, Evisu what I stay in
Got me feeling like Scarface, light the Cohiba
Streets reply, I look right in a four-seater
You know I be out here right in a four-seater
Top floor of the Four Seasons
Four of them whores
And they all know how to cook it up
And look, I got some
And only one know how to bag, bitch, bundle up
See, it's a cold world, so homie, bundle up
We ain't on this grind for nothing, now get your hustle up

Baby, you gotta know that I'm just out here
Doing what I gotta do for me and you, and we're eating
So, bitch, why the fuck is you tripping?
I'm taking these chances
My head to the sky, my feet on the ground
My fingers to the judge, if the money don't move
Then I won't budge, won't budge
No, I won't budge, no, Lord
Baby, you gotta know that I'm just out here
Doing what I gotta do for me and you, and we're eating
So, bitch, why the fuck is you tripping?
I'm taking these chances
My head to the sky, my feet on the ground
My fingers to the judge, if the money don't move
Then I won't budge, won't budge
No, I won't budge, no, Lord

Man, man, this be that hustler music
Young Weezy got that motherfucking hustler music, y'all
So ride to it, y'all, and vibe to it, y'all
I'm asking y'all, please, please
Young Weezy got that hustler music
Young Weezy got that motherfucking hustler music
Ride to it, y'all, vibe to it, y'all, vibe to it, y'all, yeah, yeah, woo

It's real shit, man, it's real talk, man
It's how we do it, how we did it, how we done it, ayy
It's real shit, man, it's real talk, boy
It's how we do it, how we did it, how we done it
I ain't bragging, I ain't boasting, it's the way it go
I ain't bragging, I ain't boasting, it's the way it is
Better guard your kids, guard your face
Better guard your body, we warned the place
We here
Fuck bitches, it's Young Money, nigga

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Bryan Williams, Dwayne Carter, Tristan G. Jones