Lyrics:
1987 (Damn man)
Ain't had a money order, since my sister passed lil daddy (You can get some of my food)
Long as I wake up every morning breathing
I'm
Boosie Badazz
Look like we got a problem, baby baby (Lil' mama)
Time ain't on my hands (Time ain't on my hands)
Look like we got a problem (We
Lil Boosie bad azz, trill entertainment, yung savage,
From the streetz to da beatz baby
Bend over lemme see whutchu workin wid fa real look
Ay
the function
Back up
Cause i'm gonna get to punching
Fist to your face
Nose busted
It's gonna be a problem if you calling up your cousin
He get smacked with
kicking shit like it's karate
The ice on lil baby from Johnny
Allergic to them, won't let none of these niggas by me
They try me I'm hurting somebody
Open
Me and Boosie just tryna help
BG get through his fourteen
I don't want liquor, I just want lean
I caught two bodies on four beams
I gotta slow down
(In university)
I swing and I beat off the block (Boosie)
6, 3
Sike girk (now it's Dorrough Music)
These niggas be claimin' they real
Most of these
Here's a story bout my lil' homies, straight thuggin'
Lil' bad young mothafuckers, gotta love him
You could catch him in his G ride, clutchin' his Glock
Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by
Boosie Bad Azz
and I'll zoom right by you
760 partna Crispy Cream on the tires
smoke that fire
purple cush by the pound
ask my dog Webbie
this is how it
get
I'm tricken every single car I get
I'm tricken every single car I get
I'm tricken every single car I get
Gotta have a drop top, Lousiana a hot spot
on a opp, play pussy you get popped
I'm feeling like lil boosie, about to set it off
Go play with your kids, cause I am not the one
Don't internet beef, can
Houston
It's badder than boosie
Ay, it's lit, my wrist
My bitch, okay it's ice
This shit is lit, is lit
Okay my bitch, my wrist is ice
This shit OK
gotta b dedicated(see
mee)nigga couldnt tell boosie shit thats how lil boosie
made it nigguhhh chill out,
take dat grill out yo mouth,
go and sell it fo
he gotta lay down
While your bitch outta town
Smoking dope by the pound
Its Trouble Life bitch
And you I'm a clown
Nigga run up, he out of bounds
I'm
gotta see it, I touch and feel
Hit them lights
It gotta get a lil' darker, yeah
You gotta work a lil' harder, yeah
You gotta get a lil' darker, yeah
Hit
(lift back your shit nigga)
[Lil' Boosie]
This that shit that we ride to
This that shit that we vibe to
This that shit that we get high to
That gangster
For that lil coochie, I'll do it
Bout bitch, you want a bag? You gotta sell your booty
I get to fade and everything like I'm Lil Boosie
5-8-8,
holler Akon and J-Kwon but what about me?
They holler Youngbloodz and Young Gunz
But Boosie, he bust guns and spit it to his loved ones
Look, they
slippin
Gotta grind just to maintain
On the way to a bag playin Boosie zoomin all up in my lane
Live by it ride it
But I don’t want you to die bout it
If
to the yard
Dead but you won't get a cent from me
But you can get a good ass kickin for free, punk bitch!
[Chorus]
[Verse Three: Lil' Boosie]
Now when I
(mane wat mane) mane i gotta tell you bout dat bitch iont want u to go back to sleep i gotta holla at you bout dat bitch (mane fuck it mane yo go head
like it's a demon
Curt McGirt, hop out, the whip the cleanest
I can tell by my auntie's face
She really need it neighbors used to call me
A lil' dirty
Holdin' on to this money mane I gotta get it
Choppers and a Glock 40 play with me you get ya issue
Wrap ya dick up 'cause ya dick will have the hiccups
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