YM Banger

Lil Wayne & Tyga & Gudda Gudda & Jae Millz - Rap, Hip-Hop
YM Banger
11.8K Plays
Duration: 4:34
September 27, 2010.
Lyrics
[Verse 1: Gudda Gudda] Okay, I'm leanin' to the left, flag in my right pocket Star Trek fly, unidentified flying objects Extraterrestrial, I'm all about my decimals Retarded in the booth, they say I got a special flow Sicker than your average, you rappers is ass-backwards Gudda spit crack and you niggas is crack addicts It's simple mathematics; you cut the check And I rake in the green like I'm rakin' the grass in Pretty bitches damn near faint when they passin' Call my whip Martin, but the first name Aston Potatohead niggas get mashed when I'm spazzin' Think you fuckin' with me? Put your cash in Nah, I doubt it I was young and reckless when P say he was about it You niggas is Ducks, Howards, Cowards Kill the competition and shower niggas with flowers This rap shit is ours, Gudda, bitch! [Verse 2: Lil Wayne] Uh, Uptown back in it, Hollygrove black menace Black clothes, black tennis', black semi' I've never sat in the Hemi, that will offend me Try Maybach or Maybach, bitch, I got stacks Yeah, Paychecks on paychecks and I still want payback I still don't play that, I kill on ASAP And we don't do shit but get money all day Put some shoes on my bullets, now they runnin' your way YM, Young Mula, Young Money all day Where the drugs so sweet like honey on yay Which one of y'all say you want drama? I'm honored I blitz yo' ass like a mothafuckin' lineman Stack of paychecks with a whole bunch of commas Still wear red like an old 49er Fuck shittin' on ya, dump the whole toilet on ya Weezy F baby, bitch, I'm hotter than Uganda Uggh! [Verse 3: Jae Millz] Let-let go Mo-momma ain't make me to make homies, she made me to make history So doin' that my extra-curricular activity Bulldozer boy and my target is the industry Two things in the world I love—good head and victory You ain't doin' it big, I'm grown, stop kiddin' me Your whip ain't up to date and your hoes look like Mr. T This is Misery, no Kathy Bates Come at me sideways, my money'll slap you straight Yeah, I'm a big joker so you know I'll smash your ace Leave the club with ya girl, send her home with a ashy face Love is a gamble, but it's my casino And tonight you're the loser, I hope she got Aveno I hope the game got life insurance 'cause I'ma kill it And all you whack-ass rap niggas dyin' with it I'm so Harlem, eatin' but still starvin' Po-pockets fat as fuck like all they do is eat margarine Millz! [Verse 4: Tyga] Say, put the flow Say, put the flow in the pot, crank up the notch Burn the song from a stove top, this finger lickin' hot His pick flip 'cause the nigga flopped My shit hit like the pitch was soft, niggas cottonballed She dropped drawers 'cause she poppin' off Her pussy crossed guard but, I don't stop at all I smash in the car, like fuck the fuckin' law Her baby daddy gone, who wanna meet the Don? That Rocky shit up on the arm-arm Shittin' on 'em like hay in the barn Hey, wait, they say Money talks and, man, you don't speak at all You shop at mini-malls My style two thumbs up like using analogs, ha-ha! I wreck shit for the recognition, bitch Jesus as my witness, Satan vision Eyeball you niggas, flame flicker I melt pictures, Tyga skin ain't drippin'
Rate this song
0/5.0 - 0 Ratings
Loading comments...