Way of Life [Main Mix]
Look right here, this how we goin' do this Hook up the turn tables, whoof get on the keyboard And we goin' run this for you, ya heard? Yeah, check it out Cash Money [Repeat: x4] Hey, let me slide in the Benz with the fished-out fins Hit the mall wit my girlfriends dish out ends Cause you know it ain't tricking if you got it Copped baby girl what she desired It's chump change ma, Marijuana skyler Know'n what I got up in my styraphone cup, that purple stuff It was given to me at birth an stuff So that's why I cop the Bentley with the leather and the furry cups Hey, hold on mami them whips on dubs Cadillac Truck, 28's, no rubs Slide in the Benz, fins, bubble-eyed lens Car show in New York, y'all know who wins It's the Birdman daddy, with the Gucci Prada Slant back Cup Truck, no rims, can't holla It's that Louie Fendi on Ostrich streets It's the tailor-made daddy, mami do you love me? [Chorus] Baby, I'm a stunna I ain't goin' change it Don't, you, know, it's a way of life? Mami, do you want it? Cause I'm about to bring it Oh baby, can't stop the stun, no, no Pop one, pop two with the blue Nike shoes Royal blue jag on 'em 22's Slippers, white to breathe, 500 Degreez In that Cadillac Truck on 'em 23's I'm the boss of the game with the money and fame All these, naked women that pop Champaign And these, marble floors stay high as Rick James If you know my name then you know my game It's Lil' Whoody from the Hot Block where series flow Gotta get dough, cha'll won't feel me blow But, y'all don't hear me though Til I'm rolling down my window where my grill is show And you know I probably pump it through the hood on them 24's Word, rims poking out the side of the err Glock, have ya rims poking out the side of your shirt I'm a 17 nigga and I ride through the turf [Chorus] Hey, and my pinky glow cause my rings is so, Blingy blingy, yo stop blinking though We smoke stinky stinky dro And we don't cop them incy wincy o's And we don't stop, nah, we blow Fuck the people Everywhere we go we smell like ick yo Birdman, my Paw so that make me go, fly like an eagle, fasheezy See they think cause I stay English turn That stunna don't ever OZ to burn I go in each sto' and ball like a dog Me and my niggs ball like a dog Cars on my streets, all on the lawn Ice in my teeth, all on my arm Tats in my face, my back and my arm Tats in my face, my back and my arm [Chorus] Yo, there it is, ya lil' low life See, I'm a professional, you a rookie Fuck, a game so serious I could sell a hooker some pussy That's some serious shit Oh yeah, believe that Who we rolling with? We rolling wit Cash Money Oh, I forgot about peace, Peace! I mean, piece of pussy, piece of land, piece of property Just a mind game Piece of mind, ya know Piece of something, motherfucker!
Written by: Hitchings, Duane S / Quaites, Terrance Jermaine / Thomas, B. / Golde, Franne / Lambert, Dennis Earle / Carter, D.
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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