| We shovlin' snow the hood is all great
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| He know where to go so we pushing off weight
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| We all good with the hoes and the hood
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| And we stash in the house like a pimp should, nigga
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| New era fitted low, favorite team on my hat
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| Fly boy nigga I should have wings on my back
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| Murder and drugs, you never seen none of that
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| I’m cheating on my girlfriend, sleeping with my gat
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| How you gon' tell me about me?
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| Curren$y … way back in the G
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| Back when Pimp C may pump the party
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| And Soulja Slim laced up his first pair of reece
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| Yeah, I got a fashion for flare
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| I got a stain on my birdmans but I don’t care
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| I fuck with baby money and get a hundred more pair
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| Young Money we connected and respected everywhere
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| Yeah, but I’m just tryna' to be cool
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| And see if I can get decisions flew in from Peru
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| . |
| in projects, and holla in my booth
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| Now shorty when this package come let me put it by you, aight
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| Ah
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| Standin' in my D-boy stance is all gravy
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| Baby, probably see me ridin' in my sky-blue Mercedes
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| Probably with my lady
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| I got the seat laid back and my pimp posture
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| She doin' the speed limit while I’m eating shrimp pasta
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| Two hands on the wheel with the thick glasses
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| Cops pull us over probably think she take classes
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| But she don’t go to community college
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| Graduated from the block, she got yayo knowledge, homie
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| Load up the shells, light up the L’s
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| Put the work on the scale without breaking the nails
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| Plus she likes to cook that good crack
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| See to me she a diamond but to you she a hood rat
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| See that’s my bitch and I’m her nigga
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| State the state, paper plates 'til the money is bigger, yeah
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| Good mommies put your ones up
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| And when the feds come put the guns up
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| Let’s get it ma'
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| Nigga
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| This is the payback
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| I know them bitch niggas from way back
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| When I was in the project selling crack, nigga
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| With two macs and the 'lac laid back, homie
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| Gettin' paper like a nigga supposed to
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| We hear you niggas talking fly shit
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| Young money cash money ain’t gon' ride a bitch, nigga
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| And make us flat all your tires quick
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| And grab the hammer cockin' straight between your eyes, bitch nigga
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| We flippin' work through the airport
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| I got my ho holdin' dope in her asshole, nigga
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| We got the streets poppin', homie got the institution
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| And I ain’t done whole head niggas.
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| And we be poppin' that monster cart
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| 'Cuz when the gag got it poppin', some niggas go to droppin' nigga
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| So drop it like it’s hot, pimp let me get that plaque
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| Got a million in the house, and twenty in the cab, wha!
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| They call me Weezy F, baby from my hard work
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| I told hardware something up or coffin jump
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| Leapin' this 6 feet 0, be bold
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| And then you be home to beast on
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| Lil nigga know so, them lil niggas playin' with no clothes
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| I kill them all put on a jacket 'cuz that’s cold
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| My old rollie hands to the froze
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| When no tick tack I’m getting money run the Glock boy
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| Am I hot boy, you bitch about me
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| And if you trippin' she bitch 'bout me
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| I’ve been 'bout me, nigga
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| Weezy F baby, key-sellin' like the naval base
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| I got woofers in this place to bang, nigga I got nasal base (shi')
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| I got white parts of haze so kick some soul 1988, niggo |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Shovlin' Snow , by - Birdman. Song from the album Fast Money Chopped and Screwed, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп