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Published on Oct 27, 2009
No ceilings OK I got this chrome on this Bugatti I'm strong in this Bugatti Two V8's Ain't no such thing as driving calm in this Bugatti Bitch, I’m bad I'm worse I'll pass The purp Don't fuck with me Cause right now I'm higher than Captain Kirk I swear I be the sickest nigga You can ask the nurse And if you throw it in a bag I bet I'll snatch her purse Ok, I spazz, I curse You last, I'm first I'm on your ass, like dirt Behind that cash, get murked I'm talking big shit nigga Join my hit list nigga What's the matter? Check your bladder I'm the shit, piss nigga Shoot the witness, nigga Hold court in the streets And convict this nigga Oh dickless nigga Man, I'm running with the blocka Young Money, motherfucka You think we gon' do our thing Well ain't it sunny in the summer? And we coming for the commas And whoever among us And you know I'mma bust my ass Until my crew very humongous I said T.I., hold your head And Mack, hold your head Wish I could But I can't say some other names cause of the Feds And to my Bloods, Code Red Man you know how we play it And if it costs to be the boss Oh well, I guess I gotta pay I'm a New Orleans nigga I don't take no shit Take the brain off the whip Now it don't make no sense Stunt hard on these bitches I ain't promised tomorrow Now women kicking it with me Like Nomar Garciaparra Fuque roll them killer plants The Lil Tune Shop of Horror And we roll them bitches thick Make 'em look like Tocara Man, I'm too much for these niggas And three much for these hoes The world is in my hands And I keep my hands closed I love my baby mommas They get my highest honor Gotta take care of them kids Man, I know you heard Obama And I live on an island Atlantic in my backyard I just tell my pilot To land it in my backyard Quarterback shotgun You don’t get any sack yards Bitch I ball hard Breaking all the backboards Pretty Boy Floyd Step up, I will crack yours And even at the White House We pull up at the back doors Walk around like I'm 30 feet tall Tiger Woods All these hoes tryna birdy these balls In the Porsche 911 Like emergency calls Man I just be chilling I'm cool like Lou Rawls Young Money in the building I'm putting up new walls Nigga take your Mrs. Officer And set some new laws My flow is like rubbing two logs Young Mula We the new shit in new drawers Now get off my dick I ain't fucking with ya Watch me shoot to the bank I'm a money pistol Weezy beat the beat up Like Sonny Liston Redbone do me good Then her friend assist her I mean the bitch she never met Her best friend or sister I leave the pussy micro-soft Like Windows Vista Young Tunechi Pop that coochie for a goon, ho Bullet in you boy's memory Now you act like you don't know Eastside who I do it for Eagle Street, right by the store Katrina wiped the city out But couldn't fuck with Hollygrove Lost some real niggas I knew from a long time ago But, heaven or hell I'm hoping that they be where I'mma go Take a nigga's gal And make her come give me a private show Still long hair, don't care Like a Navajo I'm the hardest shit Go in your ass and search I smash this verse And I swag and surf No ceilings!