| Yea, so priceless.
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| Life so priceless, nigga you understand me?
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| Its just like that.
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| My car so priceless, my bitch so priceless, my familia is so priceless nigga.
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| You understand me?
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| Either you with us or you ain’t with us.
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| Either you in the huddle or you out the huddle.
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| Either you ridin or we pass flyin by sayin fuck you.
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| It’s Young Money, Cash Money playboy, it’s about the size of it, at the rooftop,
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| so hot up here nigga.
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| Lets go!
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| Take yourself a picture when I’m standing at the mound and I swear it’s going
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| down, I’m just repping for my town.
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| Off a cup of CJ Gibson, man I’m faded off to Brown and I’m easily influenced by
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| the niggas I’m around.
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| See that Aston Martin, when I start it, hear the sound.
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| I ain’t never graduated, I ain’t got no cap and gown.
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| But the girls in my class who were smart enough to pass be at all my fuckin
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| parties grabbin money off the ground.
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| Yeah, all hail Mr. Lyrical, spades of the opus baby, what you got a feeling for?
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| I could show you new things, have you feeling spiritual.
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| Pastor Kerney Thomas to these hoes… Miwacles.
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| Yeah ok, they say that I’m the one, in fact, some say I’m their favorite but I
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| ain’t hearing none of that.
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| I’m about my team hoe, Young Money runnin back, Cash Money superstar.
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| Where the fuck is stunna at?
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| Damn.
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| Untouchable, 40 with my AK.
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| Mastermind, big money heavy weight.
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| On the grind, flippin money in everyway.
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| Headline, my bitch shine everyday.
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| Pearl white, throwin P Marc Jacob gloves.
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| Cartier Louis case with a dope plod. |
| From the mud.
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| Where they wet you and leave you in your blood.
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| Goin in, flippin hundreds, get the young «?».
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| Show’em where it go, floatin on the floor,
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| gettin more dough, grind hard go,
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| black diamond show, watch the flame blow.
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| And how you stay grounded cash no go.
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| And how you stay mounded cash no flow.
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| And how you stay shinin, bently on the floor.
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| And how you stay high, purple pine dro.
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| Diamonds wing fur, February snow.
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| Uh, you know your paid, when you got baby witcha.
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| It’s Young Money like Ben Frank’s baby pictures.
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| I’m the lady twister, I kiss her wiskers.
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| I been runnin this shit, blisters.
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| Stickin to the script, movie star money.
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| And if ya gas’d up, I leave the car runnin.
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| I’m a big smoker, I’m a little drinker,
|
| the peace sign is just a trigger and the middle finger.
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| Wha-wha-what you know about it?
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| man yall clueless.
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| I let two women ride me, that’s car poolers.
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| I rock stupid ice, Mr. water coolers.
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| If yall in the buildin, then we are intruders.
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| Simmer down pimpin, let me handle this.
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| I know the game, analysts.
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| Man I’m the shit and yall are janitors.
|
| Blow out the k-sh and crack a smile for the cameras. |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 4 My Town (Play Ball), artist - Birdman. Album song Pricele$$, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп