Mr. Biggs

(альбом: Young Money The Mixtape Volume 1 - 2005)

Nigga I'm young as a muhfucka
But money a muhfucka
Young Money muthafucka, get it in blood puddles
Shit, I'm in the south where we living in mud puddles
Shit is a drug struggle when you niggas upping prices
I hug the Glock like a turn buckle
Can't get stop by the vices, no license
Rolling like dices on the streets
Where the odds is high
Where the crime is life
And the life is time, and the time is jail
And in the jail you stressin
The judge probably hit me with an algebraic expression
But I get away free like Ocean's Eleven
And I motion the metal, like a pro-fe-ssional
And when I'm rolling especially, like a pimp suppose to
Watch how you sit down somethings in that sofa
If she with me, you know that something's in that ho bra
She's a foreigner so she say coca
I get broke off and they get brok-er
They like so what, I'm like so when?
We going know then how the turn in turn out
Cause we going shoot back till the burners burn out
Till the burning burn down every house the block hold
I'm hollering at you niggas with every shot the Glock hold
You can't see me there's a thousand blind folds
And my mind state is put a thousand on top of those
Chea, I do school and do lunch at Pappadeaux's
They want beef I turn that to that to sloppy joes
Copy cats brrrrrrat, copy those
Had a strong relationship with expensive clothes
This stuntin shit is extensive and intense
Like pulling up in something Americans can't invent
Chea, I make them fall back, they gotta indent
Like a paragraph, the first sentence, shit
I'm way smarter man, I'm more gifted
Straight from the womb to pro, prolific
I'm so, I'm so so, I'm so lifted
High in the sky, me and pops taking pictures
That's my vision, until my vision is vivid
Ima give it all I got we good jigga you bitches"