Baller Blockin' (feat. E-40) - Cash Money Millionaires

Y'all be hella high powered on them socials Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God Not from Buffalo, but I'm playin' with a few Bills My medallion frostbitten, might give a penguin the chills I'm the author and I'm an inventor of this style that you spongin' up Your bitch on my fender, I told her, 'I'm married, don't wanna fuck' I pray to my God like I'm at a mosque On my knees like I'm arrested by the cops Prices go up and down like a see-saw Cameras up in my studio, I could see y'all Flyer than the Blue Angels, more sticks than the glue man got My rifle was stock 'til I modified that bitch with a bump stock (A bump stock?) An accessory that I bought I could turn a semi to fully, put hellas holes in your hoodie Hella holes in your hoodie, hella holes in your lip These 7-point-6-2s'll eat your whip Hot-headed, I'll blow a fuse, I'll put out a hit Give you and your niggas the blues, I'm with the shit (BIATCH!) Y'all be hella high powered on them socials When we got face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions (Not close) Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God On God, I ain't playin' wit' you niggas My side gettin' money with the winners Yeah, I see what they be doin' but I don't feel 'em Stars in the ceilin', watchin' for the killin' (What?) Murder the scene like I pulled up in an ambulance (Woo) Nigga, whoever laughs, Silent Gary get the gat You need the gas? Oh damn, let me poot California legend, rest in peace Ron Newt (What?) Miss me with that thug talk 'cause I ain't tryna hear You may fool what's in that mirror but that shit ain't in your spirit You may want me on your song, but on my mama, I ain't gon' clear While I'm ready for that drama, on my mama, I don't fear it Ask 40, and the dead homies, and my new Roley It's a bunch of me's everywhere, it's like the game cloned me I ain't gon' never ever forget what the game showed me So now I'm back to get everything the game owe me (What?) Y'all be hella high powered on them socials (Hella high) Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions (Not one) Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God More hammers than a tool box (Tool box) More poles than the Bass Pro Shop (Pro Shop) Don't get scalped with the tomahawk (Tomahawk) Don't get your head put on the choppin' block (Choppin' block) Be careful who you ridin' with 'Cause you ride with might be into some shit (In some shit) These bitches'll have you pussy-whipped Thinkin' wit' ya dick'll get ya hit (Get ya hit) I don't trust nobody, you either my friend or foe (Foe) I don't even trust my own family no more (More) I remember cookin' ki's of candy or blow Now I get six figures at these festival shows When we shootin' dice it's hully gully pee-wee, no catcher (Uh) Bet I 10 or 4 before I 7-11 Bet you I could sic a bad bitch on a reverend Bet you if I ran for mayor I'd win the election (BIATCH!) Y'all be hella high powered on them socials Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God

It's hard for me to go soft Back me up in a corner and I'ma get off Get you gone if you double cross Niggas jealous 'cause I'm saucy like spaghetti sauce Or should I say lemon caper, diamonds giggin' like a drum major I go this little bitch, I be milkin' the bitch for all her paper Thick like cake mix, all the ballers wanna pay her, save her Charlie Check a Chick is what they call me, not a caped crusader I'm plugged in, I know everything, keep my ear to the gravel I know these streets like my muthafuckin' shadow Under certain circumstances, it's manda-, stay with a stapler You never know who a hater 'cause ain't no congratulators Where I'm from, gotta be a quick decision-maker In the slum, put holes in your car like a cheese grater As of lately, it's crazy, it's been a spark up in crime The murder rate inflate in the heat of the summertime What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (spot) Potna went down, now everybody hot That's what I heard at the barbershop What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot (What you heard?) That's what I heard at the barbershop (The barbershop) I'll get to knockin' like a rock band Heavy metal shit, drumsticks in niggas' hands They say he ran off with half a man And they don't want him dead, just to understand You keep playing with this Bay shit Where niggas see the plan, don't say shit Go the wrong day to get your taper fixed Could put you in the mix over paper quick Yeah, in the chair, you gon' hear the drama Side bitch and her mama jumped the baby mama She was being messy all in the comments Talking 'bout, "Excuse me, he left his condoms" Man, these bitches ain't playing fair That told the welfare she be doing hair Be havin' hella niggas in and outta there And they be smokin' with the kids, they ain't even player What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot That's what I heard at the barbershop What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot (What you heard?) That's what I heard at the barbershop (Ugh!) Goons, goons Pistols be poppin' just like balloons, balloons Niggas be dropped in emergency rooms, rooms The smirkish be plottin' on the tycoons, tycoons They'll kick in your door in the afternoon, the noon Be strapped with mini-Macs See me, mama snaps, already know where them pennies at Real life hittas don't come in a beanie cap They do it bare-faced off powder and Henny yak Niggas gon' give him that, run him and shit You either take the L or get shot in your lip Suckas lay low but a boss'll flip Put a hundred on the Lamb', 50 more on the wrist The niggas is pissed; if they move, it's fonk Them boys got them problems niggas really don't want Flexin' in the thang, park it right out front Be the talk in barbershop for the next three months (BIATCH!) What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot That's what I heard at the barbershop What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot (What you heard?) That's what I heard at the barbershop (The barbershop)

I keep pimpin' I keep pimpin' I keep I, I keep pimpin' I, I, I keep pimpin' I got a bitch in the back, got a hoe in the front One cookin' the crack, one rollin' the blunt You get pussy and ass from a beautiful broad If you lookin' for that, holla at ya boy I'm a m-m-mack mack A p-p-pimp I sp-sp-sp-spit out shrimp I pull up clean I get out limp I walk like li-li-li-limp I talk like bi, b-bitch get here Best player on my team when I ball women cheer And they love the way I dumb out with the gear This jacket, these shoes don't come out this year So if you love your girl don't let her come out this year If you leave her out there, then she comin' out here And that ain't fair, but I don't care I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire I got 25 dollars on my dresser and if I give it to my hoe She gon' bring back more, not a minute go she ain't gettin' that loot And if you ain't got no money she ain't gettin' at you I like 'em sexy, high, yellow if you fittin' thats you Ooh boo you can come and get in that Coupe Take a hit of that fruit get high wit' Wayne Fly wit' Birdman Jr. wave high to planes Say bye to lames don't buy they game If he ain't score in the first half, bench his ass If you play wit' my money I'ma lynch ya ass I John Lynch ya shit don't tempt me bitch, OH! Wipe me down cause I'm filthy rich If gettin' money's a crime then I'm guilty bitch And that ain't fair, but I don't care I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah I sit' low in the car sit high in the truck Lay at the front of the plane lay in the back of the bus I got ladies for days, got women for months Leave ya girl at home on May 21 I got that thang on chrome blade 21 Got them thangs inside, make me empty one Pull it over to the side by a pretty one Like "What's good mami come make a cloud your pillow, come fly wit' me" My diamonds sing, my weed is rap Call me Weezy the king or call me Weezy the crack If pimpin' is dead then I'm bringin it back Matter of fact it never died so I take that back If your shoes too small shorty take that back Cause you gon' walk all day til you make that back And that ain't fair, but I don't care I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire Yeah Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' (Bitch) I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah Who you think you fuckin' wit'... What's really good mami? It's ya boy W-a-e-z-y F, baby So high in the sky I'm so fly Watch out for the power lines ya know Get wit' me, one Pimp Daddy! Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' Who you think you fuckin' wit' I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah I'm a motherfuckin' Cash Money Millionaire, yeah