Boo - Young Money Property lyrics

[Verse 1: Curren$y] Curren$y the hot spitter Fast life, slow slow Lost a couple, that ain't sh**, I got more Bank so easy, n***as you know me b**hes talk to sideways get smacked the f** up I'm a pimp, but I don't move with a pimp cup I'd rather keep my dreams in a thermos Told yall before I was an advanced learner Cops tryna send me of the camp like Ernest Yeah, but I ain't walk for that walk f** around with me and I just let that gat talk Yeah, I'mma let that heat spray Right where you standing that's where you gone lay Still play it cool, get off the streets Cops came to the house, moms told them I was sleep Cause she memorized the script to a tee Told them that I had the flu and I was in the bed for weeks Yeah, another victim of a murderer Got your family running asking people have they heard of ya All over, putting up posters Like you got an album about to drop But there ain't nothing bout to drop but that casket Label me a ba*tard even though I know my pops, yeah Ratting gang said I fell off the scene Though I'm coming back like I forgot my keys, yeah [Verse 2: Boo] It's a shame how I gotta duck shots From these hating a** n***as and these crooked a** cops f** it, it just make me grind harder Now I'm signed to young Carter P89 be the answers to the my problem Performance get 'em mad, I'm a starter Number 1 draft pick, laughing in a black 6 Talk big sh** and still turn bricks like back flips Young Money be the circle that I ride fo' n***a we live to stay fly on you a** holes It ain't a doubt, I'mma rep that Chicago But I got so much love for the south Where the women be most thick and give great mouth And love all the sh** that a thug be 'bout Now let these things ling out YM b**h, now it's time to bang out [Verse 3: Mack Maine] Gorilla with the flow, n***a finna blow Ice everywhere, chinchilla to the flo' Escalade trucks with the chromed out buggy Type of sh** I got since the n***a got paid n***a gained a little weight but the hoes still love me Still let a n***a put a dick to they face Run up in your crib, put the burner to your face Leave the scene with out a trace at a earn hard pace But no I ain't bail, I ain't tryna hit the wall Tryna make a little broad and get her back to the place Yo man trip, I show 'em what the Ruger hold Catch a flight to Jayville, can't miss the Super Bowl Then it's back to the hood cause I love the streets Better find Noah's Ark, bout to flood the streets Young Money, that's the clan Mack Maine, I'm the man Getting money is the plan The Rugers don't jam [Verse 4: Lil' Wayne] Weezy F. kinda nice with the Glock But I'm better than that with the rock Tryna land me a spot at the Rock If my city got word of that n***as want me to hook them up with Fox I done got young Mal off the block Now the haters don't know where he at Tryna do the same thing for cops That's my young brother, he got shot If a n***a try to jack Then we coming back like Hip-Hop Got the bullets coming out the pump Running through your stomach back like a Running Back I ain't got the Emit Smith b**h I got the Dorset AR-33 shooting like a Cowboy Tryna see red skin, b**h I'm fly, I'm sky born Young Ozzy Osbourne floating like the cloud boy Got them b**hes pilled up, blowing like a plow truck With they f**ing mouths up, south up!