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Young Money

You dig

Mack I'm going in

A millionaire

I'm a Young Money millionaire

Tougher than Nigerian hair

My criteria compared

To your career just isn't fair

I'm a venereal disease

Like a menstrual bleed

Through the pencil I leak on

The sheet of the tablet in my mind

Cause I don't write shit

Cause I ain't got time

Cause my seconds minutes

Hours go to the almighty dollar

And the almighty power of

That ch-cha-cha-chopper

Sister brother son daughter

Father mother-fuck a copper

Got the Maserati dancing on

The bridge pussy popping

Tell the coppers ha-ha-ha-ha

You can't catch 'em

You can't stop 'em

I go by them goon rules

If you can't beat 'em

Then you pop 'em

You can't man 'em

Then you mop 'em

You can't stand 'em

Then you drop 'em

You pop 'em

Cause we pop 'em

Like Orville Redenbacher

Mothafucka I'm ill

A million here a million there

Sicilian bitch with long hair

With coke in her derriere

Like smoke in the thinnest air

I open the Lamborghini

Hoping them crackers see me

Like look at that bastard Weezy

He's a beast he's a dog

He's a mothafuckin' problem

Okay you're a goon but

What's a goon to a goblin

Nothing nothing

You ain't scaring nothing

On some faggot bullshit

Call 'em Dennis Rodman

Call me what you want bitch

Call me on my Sidekick

Never answer when it's private

Damn I hate a shy bitch

Don't you hate a shy bitch

Yeah I ate a shy bitch

And she ain't shy no more

She changed her name to My Bitch

Yeah nigga that's my bitch

So when she ask

For the money when you through

Don't be surprised bitch

It ain't trickin' if you got it

But you like

A bitch with no ass

You ain't got shit

Motherfucka I'm ill

Not sick and I'm okay

But my watch sick

Yeah my drop sick yeah

My Glock sick

And my knot thick I'm it

Mothafucka I'm ill

They say I'm rapping

Like B.I.G Jay and 2Pac

André 3000

Where is Erykah Badu at

Who that

Who that said

They gon' beat Lil' Wayne

My name ain't Bic

But I keep that flame man

Who that one

That do that boy

You knew that

True that swallow

And I be the shit

Now you got loose bowels

I don't O U like two vowels

But I would like for you

To pay me by the hour

And I'd rather be pushing flowers

Than to be in

The pen sharing showers

Tony told us

This world was ours

And the Bible told us

Every girl was sour

Don't play in her garden

And don't smell her flower

Call me Mr. Carter

Or Mr. Lawn Mower

Boy I got so many bitches

Like I'm Mike Lowrey

Even Gwen Stefani said

She couldn't doubt me

Mothafucka I say life ain't

Shit without me

Chrome lips poking out the coupe

Look like it's pouting

I do what I do

And you do

What you can do about it

Bitch I can turn a crack rock

Into a mountain dare me

Don't you compare me

Cause there ain't nobody near me

They don't see me

But they hear me

They don't feel me

But they fear me

I'm illy C3 3 Peat