Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Big Money, Big Cars , by - Killer Mike. Release date: 07.07.2008
Song language: English
Big Money, Big Cars |
| Talking money, getting Mike in new pair of Nikes |
| They said life was a bitch so I made her my wife |
| I’m talking holy matrimony 'til some other fucking money |
| Them other boys is talking but I swear to God they phony |
| Fuckboys crazy, nothing but |
| That’s why my motto to this day is still 'Fuck you, pay me' |
| Any rap nigga acting like he want it with me |
| I swear to God I’ll put his rapping-ass next to Biggie |
| I swear to God I’ll put his rapping-ass next to Pac |
| Martin Luther King, nigga, certified by the block |
| Gold 54 riding all chrome, big block |
| And the paint so wet I’m in need of a mop |
| Black and yellow Chevy and it’s looking like a bumblebee |
| My partner came through in his Gellardo trying to humble me |
| I left, came back, Murciélago straight stunting G |
| When he seen me bending left, nigga must have shit hisself |
| Gucci shirt, Gucci jeans, Gucci this, Gucci that |
| Before I walk out the house, everything gotta match |
| I ride through this bitch with a pocket full of money |
| I bet no nigga won’t say nothing in front me |
| I went and bought a Benz and went and got a bike |
| Went and stopped by the paint shop then sprayed 'em cold white |
| Them 24-inches man, you know what it is |
| A nigga put 'em on so my shit’ll look big |
| I’m a certified goon, I be putting in work |
| I ride with the cannon cause I be doing hella dirt |
| I’m the all black fitted with them all-black swatches |
| Pushing through the ghetto running from the paparazzi |
| All the hood niggas love me |
| The price on the coke, nigga, it look so lovely |
| I’m a thug 'til I die |
| The club ain’t poppin' if these bitches ain’t high |
| You know me |
| Trina, Lil Kim, Mariah |
| Rihanna even Mýa |
| Got reps like singing cheques |
| A whip for each desire |
| They told me never to burn a bridge but I still keep a lighter |
| Ain’t met a former friend that proved he can compete with fire |
| And the paint so wet I gotta park my cars inside a dam |
| So fly my clothing line should be called the 'Mileage Plan' |
| Metal inside my hand promise it ain’t no trying fam |
| That Marvel comic baby |
| (What you mean?) |
| That Iron Man |
| That Maserati body parked right there outside the lobby |
| P-O-P to your body if you ever trying to try me |
| And the paint soaked c-c-candy ladies wanna lick my like a lolli- |
| P-O-P so my hobby is to sit behind a Jolly- |
| Rancher, look at my swagger, my name is more than known |
| My garage the square footage of the Georgia Dome |
| Got imported stones, always order chrome |
| Every other week my ride is gonna be exactly what I want it on |