Young Money - f** Da Bullsh** lyrics

Yeah, cut me up, gimme a light Yeah, and by the way n***a it's Young Mula, first lady Uh, yo, yo, let us begin with a bad lil' specimen Ballenciaga's is all these things I be steppin' in Pucci baby suits, only thing I'm dressin' in 'Cause I get wetter than a navy seal veteran Got 'em writin' love letters in they journal Keep 'em in these toes like a midget at the urinal Bad as I wanna be She ain't bad, she a sad and a wanna be Yeah, f** da bullsh**, it's big money poppin' Young Mula, yeah, just like that What up young n***a? Let's go, Gudda Okay, we runnin' this sh** when we walk in the buildin' Got b**hes from wall to wall, hoes hangin' from the ceilin' Young Money, we 'bout to k** 'em, I promise I'll make a million And if they didn't have no hands I'll bet 'em b**hes gon' feel 'em I'm talkin' money and power, you getting' money? I doubt it Fresher than baby powder with your b**h in the shower That p**y I'ma devour, I beat it up 'til it's sour No need for you to even trip, b**h, I'll be done in an hour, let's go They say the blacker the berry, the redder the cherry I say the sweeter it is ya dig bury Then the bullsh** varies and it got me wary But I know two of the same, call it murdered and married Hustlin' is so necessary with no avisaries But it ain't no love like a calendar with no February I'ma need four secretaries and 4 Bloody Mary's I'ma go eat me sum p**y and choke up the cherry, I'm gone Yeah, fully loaded with it, to the ceilin' with it More money than ya ever seen n***a, aight, Drizzy Drake k** the game, no one recovers the murder weapon Young angel, if you hate me tell me, burn in heaven How'd you sleep on me, the highest earning freshmen Like ya third infection, I hope you learned ya lesson Yeah, I spit raw but I prefer protection I own a heart and a mind and a shirt she slept in b**h, I got the answer and still ain't heard the question I shut ya club down, please reserve my section f** a confrontation, they ain't no cakin' it And I'm cakin' b**h so tell me why I take a break from it The mother of your child always tell you I'm her favorite She call me her baby, not the one she was in labor with She say, "Oh, you taste good", I say, "Oh, just savor it" She know that she love a n***a, I be on that major sh** 'Cause I get paid to stand and I get paid to sit So I don't walk around with money, baby girl, I'm made of it