Ima Millionaire,
Im a Young Money Milli in aire, tougher than Nigerian hair,
My criteria compared to your career just isnt fair,
Ima venereal disease like a menstrual bleed..
Threw the pencil and leak the sheet of the tablet in my mind,
Cuz I dont write shit cuz I aint got time,
Cuz my seconds, minutes, hours go to the al mighty dollar,
And the al mighty power of dat chit cha cha chopper,
Sister, Brother, Son, Daughter, Father motha fuck a copper,
Got da maserati dancin on the bridge pussy poppin,
Tell the coppers..hahahaha you cant catch em, you cant stop em,
I go by them goon rules if you cant beat em then you pop em,
You cant man em then you pop em,
You cant man em then you mop em,
You cant stand em then you drop em,
You drop em cuz we pop em like Orville Redenbacher,
[Cory Gunz]
Im Milli in here wit them Young Money Milli on aires,
Think you really pop a wheelie in air,
Mac Milli..the Vanilli’s in here.. im a rascal dont get whopped,
I get brats who dont give top,
I get tassel, pass you wit a flow you could never put a brake on,
An I break on anything a nigga take on,
Feel the napalm from my trey arm, straight long, throw a nigga like im Akon,
Cuz I make cons.. Where the base gone, get the base blown,
Let the Pistons on that chopper come on cops im kamikaze drop a rock wit them Obamas,
Illie in the mind, really wit the nine, millie when I rhyme, silly anytime,
Fine, chilly gitty on da grind, Shitty on a dime, Penny on the line,
Plentys in me, any guinea’s wit em bigger than a mini and remind im..
Illie and its all off G piece and a P..G walk by beep beep,
Wit a freak, skeet, Hawk Out, big feet on a jeep..
She caught by Weezy F, we be the best,
Truely to death prove me the rest,
Groupies confess, you be the ref, excuse me I left..Ha
young money
C3
nay nay, daddys better
ok
a millionaire im a young money millionaire
what chyall really want it now
y’all dont really wanna do it
if hip hop is dead i am the embalming fluid
and I don’t care who it be, I’m steppin to it
notice I say ‘it’ cuz to me, it ain’t shit
get. it.
call me whacha like trick?
call me on my sidekick
never answer when its private
man I hate a shy chick
don’t you hate a shy chick
I had a plate of shy chick and she ain’t shy no mo’
she changed her name to my chick
hahaha, yea boy thats my girl
and she pops excellent up in waynes world
totally dude you should
see their faces when they see that
this robot can move
and its like…
hahaha, yea
and it go…
thats right
I’m a millionaire I’m a
young money cash money fast money
slow money mo’ money neva low money
what is that, who is that, I never heard of it
I will take your picture and make a ‘rest in peace’ shirt of it
tell those niggas beatin to make a rest in peace shirt of me cuz i
killed and now don’t tell no one you heard of me
its like, the beat was screamin, murder me
and i’m a, murderer
so I murdered it
and you nigga is what i eatin ill make sure of it
and he who don’t believe me I’ll make dessert of him
sherbet him, I mean
shame on him, or her
Carter, Father of
this rap thang, this is my race
gon’ take a lap man weezy babys nursery
now gon’ take a nap man, its nap time
I’ll holla back at you at snack time
Weezy… F…. yea, ok
they say I’m rappin like Big, Jay, and Tupac
Andre 3 Thousand where is erykah badu at
who dat
who dat said they gon’ beat Lil Wayne
my name ain’t bic, but I keep that flame
who dat one
dat do dat boy
yall knew dat
true dat swallow
and i be the shhhh
now you got loose bowels
I don’t owe you like two vowels
but I’d like for you to pay me by the hour
hahaha
and I’d rather be pushing flowers,
than to be in the penn sharing showers
see Tony told us this world was ours
and the Bible told us every girl was sour
dont play in the garden and don’t smell her flower
call me Mr. Carter or Mr. Lawn Mower
boy I got so many girls like I’m Michael Lowry
even Gwen Stefani said she couldn’t doubt me
man, life, just ain’t life, without me
hip hop just ain’t hip hop, without me
young moola baby
C3
 lyrics submitted by bluesky31986 on 12-04-2008
lyrics corrected by Ma'ayan Cohen on 19-07-2008 |
