| If you could be me for an hour
|
| Have Money and Power
|
| Stand tall and ball and send your records to Tower
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| If you could be me for an hour
|
| Have Money and Power
|
| Stand tall and ball and send your records to Tower
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| Nigga, get your shit together
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| Tell the homeboys, we gon' shine in the rainy weather
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| Strap up we gon' ride tonight
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| Cause all I wan' do is play with hoes tonight
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| And my Rollies with my bezel speak through the ice
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| Let my Jag drop top speak through the gold headlights
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| Man, I’m on an all-night flight
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| Worth about a millie on a silly night
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| On the really, I’m worth about a hundred millie on a rainy night
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| Playboy and my game be tight
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| I wanna holla at my little brother L, he restin' in peace
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| My daddy Johnny, playa he restin' in peace
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| Or my momma Gladys or my sister Noreese
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| Man half of my family already deceased
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| But this baller life don’t mean nothin' to me
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| Playa if I can’t share it with my muthafuckin' family
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| I’ma roll with my heat and ride with my H.B.'s
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| And make all my hoes say the love me
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| Fitted hats, stayin' strap, Ree’s on my feet
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| Ask 'Lac playboy if you don’t believe me
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| You better stay strapped rollin' in the UPT
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| Besides all these cars and all these broads
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| Holla at me playa thangs for 10 a key
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| Playboy you could believe me
|
| If you could be me for an hour
|
| Have Money and Power
|
| Stand tall and ball and send your records to Tower
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| If you could be me for an hour
|
| Have Money and Power
|
| Stand tall and ball and send your records to Tower
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| It was one summer night in the middle of June
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| Me and Belle blowin' blunts up under the moon
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| When this nigga 'cross the street start talkin' shit
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| Tellin' all his jive niggas that my music don’t hit
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| See I payed it no matter
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| Every album gets hotter, than the last one, partner
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| What’s ya real reason nigga, for hatin' me, man?
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| Cause the bitch that ya wit', was datin' me, man?
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| You 'bout hoe shit
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| Keep it on the down low shit
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| Hoe broke and lonely, don’t know shit
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| Usually Captain Kirk a bitch
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| I’ll rough a bitch
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| 'Til she say, «I had enough shit»
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| I know ya bumpin' Cash Money, ya like Manny tracks
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| Got ya Sony CD pumped up to the max
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| You should be on Jerry Springer, cause nigga you the king of
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| Hatin' on niggas that’s keepin' it real
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| Big Tymers had money before the record deal
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| Uh, If fuckin' music don’t work nigga then I still got the wheels
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| Hmm, How you diggin' that
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| How you diggin' that
|
| How you diggin' that
|
| If you could be me for an hour
|
| Have Money and Power
|
| Stand tall and ball and send your records to Tower
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| If you could be me for an hour
|
| Have Money and Power
|
| Stand tall and ball and send your records to Tower
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| If you could be me for an hour
|
| Have Money and Power
|
| Stand tall and ball and send your records to Tower
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| If you could be me for an hour
|
| Have Money and Power
|
| Stand tall and ball and send your records to Tower
|
| You Would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| You definitely would love that (Hot, Hot)
|
| I owe my dedication to my homeboy Manny
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| Cause I’d probably still be in a penitentiary
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| Or still selling yey on these dark city streets
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| Or duckin' these haters tryin' to visit me
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| Or the feds, want me to face 4 to 40 for conspiracy
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| Playboy this life is real to me
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| I’m rollin' Uptown wit' automatic artillery
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| All I can say is Fresh kept it real wit' me
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| But I know my lil B.G. |
| could feel me
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| That’s why I’m hollerin' Chopper City in my song nigga
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| And you wearin' earrings with bezels cause I bought 'em nigga
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| But you the reason why I keep it real with niggas
|
| Juvenile came and formed this Hot Boy Clique
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| And Lil' Weezy I know you planted the seed
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| And when it comes I know you gon' name it after me
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| I owe it all to the Lord and to Suga Slim for savin' me
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| From these guns, round the white
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| And puttin' that iron on another nigga son
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| And tellin' me that I can be all gravy
|
| And tellin' me that I could save this nigga Baby
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| And if you don’t believe me playa I put it on that '99 big body Benz
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| And the Lord and My friends cause Cash Money out to win
|
| Playboy you could believe that
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| How You Love That Boy
|
| Hah Nigga, How You Love That Playa
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| Tell Me nigga, How You Love That Playa
|
| Hah Nigga, How You Love That Playa
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| It’s all gravy baby
|
| Nigga been havin' shit nigga
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| Ridin' flossin' before we did all this shit nigga
|
| Living in million dollar homes nigga
|
| Everybody in my clique ride on chrome nigga
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| I don’t make no nigga wait for shit
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| Once we want it we gon' get that shit
|
| Playboy you could believe that |