Birdman - Bussen Heads & Gettin' Paid lyrics

[Baby] I'ma tell you once n***a I don't talk twice If you get down bad wit me n***a you gone loose yo life (?) and I'ma be a Uptown n***a fo life When I pull my pistol f** you n***a yo mom ain't rise you right Game tight, me and Lil Wheezy keep this rap sh** tight Gone be a boss balla all my f**in life 8 figga, million n***a and my game be tight Can't loose my hundreds cause this rap to hot [Lil' Wayne] Wa**up, Boss B You ever got beef with a busta, you can call me You know I keep a "blucka-blucka" Hit 'em all week Give me the keys to the bubble I'm on y'all street And watch it go up in flames boy Blow up tha game boy Throw up my chain boy Scream Cash Money and this is Lil Wayne boy If you want talk you die quick in tha dark We said we was gone ball till we fall it ain't my fault [Baby] Say Lil Wayne a n***a wanna offer me some real head Say lil daddy I got to have this f**in real head Bad enough these white folks want to change tha game From lil to big to make it easier for the feds I don't sniff cause they know a n***a straight paid I keep my money round that Nolia that's where tha f** I play [Lil' Wayne] If you know me from bussen you know I love trouble And if you know me from stuntin you know I love Bubble And if you really know me you know I ride at night I been thuggin since dry rice Wodie I ain't right I got my chopper in my trunk and my vest wit me I'm bout to go scoop up Lil Derrick out that STP [Smoked Outt Records Members] All I know is hustle f** bein loaded and broke I like to ball in Seberban and drive a Lex Bubble f** gettin 20 dollars, I rather shine Ball till I fall, ride fly to I die Half a thing going for five Dog it's on, cut brick up sell in 18 zones Better get yo hustle on do what you gotta Play with my feddie I'm commin at you with that chopper All day, all night ridin or walkin See when I spot you 50 shots you'll be my target k** everything around shouldn't been around my target Bullets don't have no names n***as If you lame you better back up out tha game n***a Tha diamonds "bling bling" they blind ya Tryna stick me for my paper "click click" they found ya buried In tha million dollars, respect my whole click Smoked Outt, we be tha sh** From 98 to 99 to 2006 I run wit Big Tymers Paper Chasers and Rap Rhymers Big Tymers, 100 Thousand Dollars Car Driver Rim Shiners, f** gettin my noise dirty Ya catch me survin Watchin TV's in tha Seberban It's real great, drinkin cristal by tha case Etin steaks, scorin keys, and sells is great I'm lovin that, Foot Locker and sports clubs I done brought For tha hoes that you sayin you love I done hit that And tha G's you sayin you makin I done been there and done that We Smoked Outt Black What you boys know bout that Beamer I got 99 sports car bullet proof drop top Smasin dashin up yo block You follow me look in the front 12 slugs on shine so you know I'm gone stunt My whole click bout drama, nothin but real G's From down south to over seas All about makin G's n***a my click would out shine you any day Start ballin outta control ever since I learned to flip that yay Took tha advice from Lil (?) he said it's all about a dollar Hooked up wit Da'Shawn now them hoes be wantin to holla