[Intro: Project Pat & Birdman]
Man, why these niggas always hatin' on Hypnotize and Cash Money?
Man, fuck these niggas, man!
What's up, whoadie?
It's these gold grill and these platinum-mouth boys
These big time Hot Boys, these Three-6 boys
Wit the self made millionaire Cash Money boys
[Verse 1: Turk]
You done fucked with the wrong nigga
Must ain't know that I ride and I shoot quicker
Should have known not to upset this lil' nigga
You got a clique? So what, nigga, my clique thicker
A bunch of real ass niggas that'll burn ya up
With no waitin', catch ya slippin' then jam ya up
Slangin' weight ain't no thang for me
Play by the rules
Or shit, I'll kill your family, that's what I do
Bust your chest wide open and split your fade, nigga
And them all frozen, moves from the 'K, nigga
Turk don't play, when it's time to get serious
Think I'm a ho, keep it that way and stay curious
[Verse 2: Birdman]
Niggas be shoutin' "one love" but wearin' black gloves
Some niggas 26 and 28 still live in they mom house askin' for play
Them niggas shouldn't be respected, they fake
Instead of hittin' blocks with Glocks and touchin' niggas money spot
And breakin' bread with the woman who put 'em in that spot
These niggas wanna trick to these hoes and play with they nose
Instead of totin' fo'-fo's and movin' fuckin' kilos
Nigga, I done bought more cars than niggas done bought pussy hoes
And bought more rims than niggas done fucked they main ho in they assholes
Three 6 told me to roll and unload
But nigga fuck that
I'm tryin' to stack and mack
And that deal with Universal shoulda showed that
But Uptown is where it's at
Playboy, won't you tell me how you love that?
Won't you tell me how you love that?
Man, why these niggas always hatin' on Hypnotize and Cash Money?
Man, fuck these niggas, man!
What's up, whoadie?
It's these gold grill and these platinum-mouth boys
These big time Hot Boys, these Three-6 boys
Wit the self made millionaire Cash Money boys
[Verse 1: Turk]
You done fucked with the wrong nigga
Must ain't know that I ride and I shoot quicker
Should have known not to upset this lil' nigga
You got a clique? So what, nigga, my clique thicker
A bunch of real ass niggas that'll burn ya up
With no waitin', catch ya slippin' then jam ya up
Slangin' weight ain't no thang for me
Play by the rules
Or shit, I'll kill your family, that's what I do
Bust your chest wide open and split your fade, nigga
And them all frozen, moves from the 'K, nigga
Turk don't play, when it's time to get serious
Think I'm a ho, keep it that way and stay curious
[Verse 2: Birdman]
Niggas be shoutin' "one love" but wearin' black gloves
Some niggas 26 and 28 still live in they mom house askin' for play
Them niggas shouldn't be respected, they fake
Instead of hittin' blocks with Glocks and touchin' niggas money spot
And breakin' bread with the woman who put 'em in that spot
These niggas wanna trick to these hoes and play with they nose
Instead of totin' fo'-fo's and movin' fuckin' kilos
Nigga, I done bought more cars than niggas done bought pussy hoes
And bought more rims than niggas done fucked they main ho in they assholes
Three 6 told me to roll and unload
But nigga fuck that
I'm tryin' to stack and mack
And that deal with Universal shoulda showed that
But Uptown is where it's at
Playboy, won't you tell me how you love that?
Won't you tell me how you love that?
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