Neighborhood Superstar Hot Boys (Ft. Big Tymers)

[Intro: Juvenile]
Suga Slim, Million Dollar spot
Whodie

[Verse 1: Juvenile]
Ask them motherfuckers how the CMB play it
Tanqueray and Alize it, take the llello and weigh it
735's I drive, fits to match
When I pass, bitches ask, "Who the fuck was that?"
Girl that's Juvenile, you don't know him, he on fire
17-inch momos, black magic on his tires
Crushed out stones, plushed out homes
Cellular phones and concerts in the Superdome
Now I can park my Beamer, and play the Navigator
Sport tailor-made outfits with matching alligators
Visa gold, bank account on swole
Got my million dollar destiny under control
Millions a fantasy, Juvenile's reality
Bitch I write my own checks, bitch I pay my own salary
You want business with me
Boss playa ya have to be
I'm a million dollar nigga, these bitches run after me
I got a gold and chrome Beretta
I got a 1997 Mercedes compressor
And I can bet a hundred G's that my pockets won't hurt
Nigga set for life nigga puttin' in work