Zombies!
(Gudda Gudda)
Uh, im goin in
Nobody cold as him
I got them hoes on gin
I knock em down like bowling pins, yeah
Im chasin paper, while i chase my dreams
While im on codeine mixed with that promethazine
Cargo shorts, white tee on me
Morgan Freeman in my cup pull up that lean on me
I need cash on delivery, C.O.D
Young Money in this motherf**er, we gon' eat
Now watch me O.D, controlled substance
In my raps every time i speak, this time i preach, yeah
And let these lil' n***as know who the god is
I son rappers, let them know who they father is
I wouldn't bother him, cuz i will slaughter them
Then hang a n***a from a tree like a ornament
Yea im on my sh**, full content
Its a filthy game and im dirty like a ?? (wine-back?)
Yeah n***a im back, now who gon' stop that
Murcielago, with the top back
All red round me
No feds round me
k**ers wit me too, they bust your head proudly
Go head and doubt me
b**h i got money pilin' (piling)
And i got white movin', call it snow-plowin
When the beef on, Young Money rite here
Yeah i smell fear, your worst nightmare
Im in your dreams, while im livin mine
I got a sick flow, yeah i spit that swine
Threw cough up a virus when i spit a line
Yeah im gettin' mine, b**h its dinner time
And you are starvin artists
And we taking over, yeah we bout' to starve you artist
But imma eat regardless
I got your freakin goddess
In my bed giving head, and she take freakin orders
Man this freak is gorgeous
Im so better than
These other rookie n***as
Come and meet the veteran
I got that medicine
Knock knock, let me in
Or i'll be in your living room, late night
Like let em in
b**h n***a let me in