Yeah, uh

Let's get fucked up
On the road to riches, you're just a speed bump
Funny how the heater make a nigga freeze up
We smoke a tree down 'til it's just a tree stump
That Eastside nigga, bang on you bitches
I'm going at your neck, strangle you bitches
Got a long ass list full of badass bitches
And I stay burned out like a bad transmission
I'm on like the lights, I lights up the kush
Knocked out, Tyson fights
I'm talking about ass and titties, Sex and the City
Weezy F Baby and the "F" is for "forget it"
I'm loving my shine, sipping on fine wine
Up in some fine dime, then she give me Einstein
Young Money, motherfucker, yeah, we picked a fine time
I'm a 17, nigga, bitch, I don't mind dying, man
I just ended up on every bitch's sex list
Genie in the bottle, get a motherfuckin' death wish
Thugga in this bitch, he say, "fuck y'all niggas"
Breaking buds down the size of a football nigga
Red beam, gimme the light, no Sean Paul, nigga
Let Nina bust in your face like a porn star, nigga
Yeah, I keep the Brian Pumper, no homo
The shit I'm on got the world moving in slow-mo
Man, I told Mack I was gonna do it
Above the law, but under the influence
Man, I was on my skateboard, "Kick, Push" swagger
Got my girl to the room, got behind her like a shadow
I had her ass up in the air
I swear I got, I swear I got the largest clip in the world
Right here in my gat, yeah
And I wish a nigga play, I'ma bust a nigga ass
Hate Young Money? Then fuck you in the ass
187 in a hockey mask, ha
YMCMB gon' ball 'til we fall and it's fuck all y'all
Ball 'til we fall and it's fuck all y'all
We straight, sorry for the wait

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Ernest Dion Wilson, James III Harris, Sean Michael Anderson, Terry Lewis