Who really tryna f-ck with Hollywood Cole?
I’m with Marley Gee, bro
Flying Holly Grove chicks
to my Hollywood shows
And I want to tell you something
that you prolly should know
This that Slumdog Millionaire
Bollywood flow And ahhh
My real friends never hearin’ from me
Fake friends write the wrong
answers on the mirror for me
That’s why I pick and choose,
I don’t get sh-t confused
I got a small circle,
I’m not with different crews
We walk the same path,
but got on different shoes
Live in the same building,
but we got different views
I got a couple cars
I never get to use
Don’t like my women single,
I like my chicks in twos
And these days all the girls is down to roll
I hit the strip club
and all them bitches find the floor
Plus I just sipped and so this
shit is movin’ kinda slow
Just tell my girl to tell her
friend that it’s time to go
[Chorus]
Now tell me how you love it
You know you at the top
when only heaven’s right above it We on
It’s Young Money, motherf-cker
If you ain’t runnin’ wit it,
run from it, motherf-cker, all right
Now somebody
show some money in this bitch
And I got my bees with me like
some honey in this bitch, ya dig?
I got my gun in my boo purse
And I don’t bust back,
because I shoot first
Meet me on the fresh train
Yes, I’m in the building,
you just on the list of guest names
And all of my riders do not give a f-ck, X Games
Guns turn you boys into bitches,
sex change
And I smoke ’til I got chest pains
And you n-ggas know I rep
my game like Jesse James
Women all possessive,
and they wanna possess Wayne
I been fly so long I fell asleep
on the p-p-plane
Skinny pants and some Vans
Call me Triple 8,
get my advance in advance, Amen
As the world spin and dance in my hands
Life is a beach, I’m just playin’ in the sand
Uh, wake up and smell the p-ssy
You n-ggas can’t see me,
but never overlook me
I’m on the paper trail,
it ain’t no tellin’ where it took me
Yeah, and I ain’t a killa, but don’t push me
[Chorus]
Now tell me how you love it
You know you at the top
when only heaven’s right above it
We on
It’s Young Money, motherf-cker
If you ain’t runnin’ wit it,
run from it, motherf-cker, all right
Now somebody
show some money in this bitch
And I got my bees with me like
some honey in this bitch, ya dig?
I got my gun in my boo purse
And I don’t bust back,
because I shoot first
How do he say what’s never said?
Beautiful black woman,
I bet that bitch look better red
Limpin’ off tour ’cause I made
more off my second leg
Bird-bi-birdman Junior, eleventh grade
Ball on automatic start
I could hand it to Drake or do
a quarterback draw
Wildcat offense, check the paw prints
We in the building, n-ggas in apartments
N-now, c’mon, be my blood donor
Flow so nice,
she ain’t gotta put a rug on her
Do it big, and let the small fall under that
Damn, where you stumbled out?
From where they make gumbo at
Kane got the f-ckin’ beat
jumpin’ like a jumping jack
You know me,
I get on this bitch and have a heart attack
Hip-hop, I’m the heart of that,
bitch, nothin’ short of that
President Carter, Young Money Democrat
[Chorus]
Now tell me how you love it
You know you at the top
when only heaven’s right above it
We on
It’s Young Money, motherf-cker
If you ain’t runnin’ wit it,
run from it, motherf-cker, all right
Now somebody
show some money in this bitch
And I got my bees with me like
some honey in this bitch, ya dig?
I got my gun in my boo purse
And I don’t bust back,
because I shoot first
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