Bun B - My Tool lyrics

[Hook: Birdman] Give me my tool Die for my goons Cooked up the food Got the ice for the j**els Bullsh** or hustle Money, Motherf**er Buy it ourself Private Jets, motherf**er See, we live a luxury life Don P., pearl white Harley Davis bike n***a, mansion on sight Do the five mikes Take the five mikes Jam the five mikes Five star and n***a life [Verse 1: Birdman] Bounce back, rebel f**, going in a n***a's cell I'm raising hell doing swell Make the mil, f** the mirror Make the money, f** who tells Make the money Flip the money n***a show and tell (yeah) From the bottom Where the roaches at Hit the light switch Where the roaches scat Bounce back, hella choppers More stacks, out the back To a bus n***a mill stack (yeah) So she love me So I f** her right From the floor, no ceilings What a hella sight Harley Davis is a n***a bike Eleven-hundred, twelve-hundred Models every night (yeah) Put the suede with the plush leather Leather so soft, n***a do it any weather Fly in any weather Hustle in any weather Shine in any weather [Hook: Birdman, Jeezy on backup] [Verse 2: Jeezy] Give me my tool Jizzle got it bad He ain't no fool b**h Jizzle 'bout his bag 2010 droppin head, 26-inch mags Stick in the back with the 100-round mag (yeah) Call him sh** bag, b**h I'm Mr. Toilet Paper Call me half a clip with the gasoline chaser f** the hollow tips we make the gasoline chase you Smoke that fire sh**, that sh**'ll gasoline face you That young n***a's heartless, he's walking with a pacer Blue and yellow 'Maro like the Indiana Pacers Black with the red beam, my Portland Trail blazer No playin where I'm from, we'll f**ing trail blaze you Don't love no b**h And that's on everything I own But I swear n***a love every strap I ever owned Black head-to-toe with the Louis V. holster Straight gangster sh**, I match my floco Porsche [Hook: Birdman] [Verse 3: Bun B] n***a this is G sh** Straight up out the wards, from out the back of the projects Where n***as pull cards and choppers get pulled out Like you at the barber Fresh up out the blue water like we at the harbor This is my life (life) A ghetto dream come true Paper plates on the Benz (Benz), riding so new On some 2011 sh**, when I come through Black paint, black seats And the black rims, too Can you see me motherf**er? I'm creeping on the low though In the big-body four-door With the four bar logo Smokin' purple kush rolled up In a damn splif getting high as Mothaf**a eagle dare drift Ain't that some damn sh** And it's true though But it ain't like I'm telling you Something that you ain't knew though So don't get it twisted like a noodle I'll put one in your noodle And leave a n***a twisted So what it do, Bro [Hook: Birdman]