Burbons and Lacs

Lyrics

[Mo B. Dick] This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back This is for the players, hustlas, pimps, and macks With the Benz, makin' ends, I mean them paper stacks This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back This is for the players smokin' doolamac Slappin' skins, make dividends and riding with my straps [Master P] (Uhhhhhh) wood grain with the leather seats Windows so dark you need a flashlight to see me Smokin' on that doja Four niggas in the back screamin', "No Limit soldiers!" True to the gizzame Stopped in the projects, sold a half an ounce of cocaine Hit interstate ten, to Texas Listening to DJ Screw, just raced a Lexus Called up Pimp C Did a song last week with my nigga Bun B Twistin' on some green spinach And niggas still trippin', I ain't dead, I'm still in it [Mo B. Dick] This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back This is for the players, hustlas, pimps, and macks With the Benz, makin' ends and them paper stacks [Silkk the Shocker] See pockets full of dollars already stacked So I'm gangsta leaning sideways Today ain't Friday Ten it is and today is my day Take it from Mr. Hundred-Spoke-Rider Cadillac and Suburban driver, pussy diver Mr. Glock-Beside when I'm ridin' Flossin' down the block Holla at my boys up in the third Got the latest word, swerve To the side of the curb A fiend that wanted me to serve him I said, "Bitch, can't tell I'm off?" But I still gave him five dollars to wipe my white walls And then I burst up out the block Dropped the top 'cause it was hot Hit the spot with the most hoes At the sideshow, abouts to plot Hittin' donuts and you know I'm actin' a straight-up menace Catch me spinnin', you can tell I was there 'Cause there was a cloud of smoke when I was finished I seen 5-0 and they ain't even try to sweat me Thinkin' they being nice and all 'cause I gotta 185 In the hood and you know they can't catch me And if you see me chilling you can stop me But I keep that Glock 40 up on the dash You never know who it might not be This is for the playas [Mo B. Dick] Playa, play on I can't hate you homie Playa, play on I can't hate you homie [Lil' Gotti Gambino] Bourbons and 'Lacs, mansions and bitches, money and weed A made life is all I dream Paper chasin' for that green I'm thuggin' on the scene, nigga Whatcha don't believe? Well check the credentials, they'll tell ya A nigga's livin' presidential I'm on the level that you bustas will never feel My daughter thought I'd get caught up in the game and get killed But reverse that shit and hit the studio and make a mil For real, I'm slangin' platinum shit until I'm old and ill Lil' Gotti, I'm gonna make you feel what I say, I got time to parlay Chill off in the bay, smoke some hay I wouldn't have that shit no other way The made life, the game tight No Limit for life [Mo B. Dick] This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back This is for the players smokin' doolamac With the Benz, makin' ends, I mean them paper stacks This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back This is for the players smokin' doolamac With the Benz, makin' ends, I mean them paper stacks Playa, play on I can't hate you homie Rollin' on chrome and candy