Lyrics:
'm feelin' myself
And with the number one single, I'm feelin' my wealth
Yeah, Now what you know about me
Call me Mr. '08, 'cause this year about me
I
'm gon' go on vacation
Wait, damn, okay that's way too far ahead of me
So I'm just tryna take it day to day if they would let a G, breath
Cop cars by
T but what's more important
To me is that don't be comin' 'round my girl
Tryna act like Mr friendly
And steal the spotlight like Mr bentley
I spotted her
mack that
Need a billion dollar bitch
Put my pimpin' in your life
Watch ya daddy get rich
Easy as A-B-C, simple as 1-2-3
Get down with U-G-K, Pimp C,
Yeah.. brand new Snoop Dogg (Snoop Dogg)
Somethin' to the new year off, ya dig?
One for the treble, two for the bass,
Comeon everybody, lets
Bahdi-by-by
Get it.. right, nigga
They all know Lil' Weezy ride at.. night, nigga
I dip low, and I'm strapped up.. tight, nigga
Duct tape your momma,
ready for that (Statik)
Detroit vs. Everybody
Uh, I took a bite out the rotten apple by the poison tree
All these females need to email to make noise
mr potato head of the year, 'n' you kn.. a put together gangsta!
Rolling through Connecticut
In a stolen mini-van
Stop at his house
I don't see many
Ten years ago
I used to listen to rapper's flow
Talking' bout the way they rock
The mic at the disco
I liked how that shit was going down
Dreamt
everybody meet Mr. Me Too
Been two years, like I was paddy wagon cruisin'
The streets was yours, you're dunce cappin' and kazooin'
I was just assumin'
gig
Overqualified by the rent sticks
Red brick bash with a texted green screen
Like, "I entered my data right into your screen"
[Mr. Lif]
Jane went
know how this shit go, nigga
101
Speak up, leak
Mr. Big, G-G, something like Mr. Wallace
In Brooklyn, NYC, trying to scope me out a scholar
I ain't
The Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer of the Roc
I take my chain, my 15 seconds of fame
And come back next year with the whole fucking game
Ain't nobody expect
like the cheese, from the F-E-D
[Lil Will]
So I'm back up on the streets, slangin G's
Over the years, I stacked mo' G's than trees grow
the rich
Five, only strong will survive
Four, 'cause we live by the sword
Three, plus sixty degrees
Two, for the black and the blue
One, for the sun,
the hood bitch
They call me Mr. Goodrich, cause now I got the hood mix
How many more bitches, gon be jumping up on our dick
[E.S.G.]
Needing bout a hundred
#2: It could be carried by an African swallow!
GUARD #1: Oh, yeah, an African swallow maybe, but not a European
swallow, that's my point.
GUARD #2
the rich
Five, only strong will survive
Four, 'cause we live by the sword
Three, plus sixty degrees
Two, for the black and the blue
One, for the sun,
I've been up and grindin'
How many years have I been on writin'
Been about three but I'm still out rhymin'
Old bros wanna know wagwan
But I ain't got
Staying G's for life
Young ballers coming up
Staying high till we die
Have you heard about them boys?
They go by Slowed and Throwed
Steady sipping on a four
together like every several years
To sprinkle, a little bit of Heaven for your ears
Relax sippin' Cliquot in Rio, stupid fuckers
Low-key, know G's, but
together like every several years
To sprinkle, a little bit of Heaven for your ears
Relax sippin' Cliquot in Rio, stupid fuckers
Low-key, know G's, but
"Oh I know I'm drunk now
Ladies and gentleman, I for-
I forgot my favorite man sitting over there
His name is"
Mista Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina
"Oh I know I'm drunk now
Ladies and gentleman, I for-
I forgot my favorite man sitting over there
His name is"
Mista Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina
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