Red Devils

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Lil Twist] [?] chain on me, I was born a young beast Passenger seat [?] a Bugatti down South Beach And no it's not [?], my pockets stay obese You know they call me Twist Hefner, better watch your young niece Young Money, no peace Southside, no east And I go live, call me You Stream TV And when you turn me off, just email your friend And tell her to tune in 'cause I'm back on again And I keep rolling like ESPN I'm number one on top ten, I'm street fighting with no Ken Only weigh 105 but watch me push 210 Like double the Twist with no twin Young Money [Verse 2: Gudda Gudda] I got swagger out the roof Glass house Bentley, and I'm swerving through traffic, paper tags on the coupe Yeah I'm riding 'round the city looking for a pretty ho Malone and Stockton with the bitches 'cause I give and go I'm a young gigolo looking for a centerfold Knock her ass off and leave her walking home pigeon-toed Iced out figaro, two chains on Got a pinky ring on and the wrist got a glitter glow I'm married to the game, and no, I can't get divorced I'm raping this track, I'm having lyrical intercourse I'm a hard hitter, so give me fifty feet Cause I'm Shady after my math like motherfucking Interscope It's Gudda Gudda, bitch, I do my thang thang I let my chain hang, then let my chain swang What up, T-Streets? Nigga, bang bang YME, nigga, red devil flame [Verse 3: Lil Chuckee] [?] haters What do I have on my plate for you to hate this morning? Bankroll big like Madison Square Garden Get currency so much [?] foreign And wait (Hold up) I think I'm 'bout to throw up From eatin' you other rappers [?] in the morning Young Money is [?] Better yet an army Play with one, the others coming for you for enjoyment This Lil Chuckee and I be on that other stuff Tryna make a flip out this money to get more bruh And I be the youngest of the best clique Young Money, YME until my death wish [Verse 4: Jae Millz] You boys is all week to me, I goes hard easily So talk through your G Shock, and watch how you speak to me Stingray Corvette, take off like a small jet But don't get salty yet, the four-door Porsche is next It's get money forever, and never mind them rumors I'm fishing for the crown and y'all niggas is tuna With an honor, look at all these Young Money jr.s You generational like Oklahoma, y'all just sooners Your style is playgerolie polo on our labels And I got more fucking horses in my closet than a stable Catch me rolling down a ave near you, acting bad Trick like 8Ball, I pimp hard [?] Millz!