Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Burbons And Lacs, artist - Master P. Album song Best Of Master P, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 31.12.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Priority
Song language: English
Burbons And Lacs |
This is for the Burbans and the Cadillac’s |
With the tens and twelves bumpin in the back |
This is for the players, hustlas, pimps and macks |
With the Benz makin ends I mean them paper stacks |
This is for the Burbans and the Cadillac’s |
With the tens and twelves bumpin in the back |
This is for the players smokin doolamac |
Slappin skins, makin dividends and riding strapped |
(Uhhhhhh) wood grain with the leather seats |
Windows so dark you need a flashlight to see me Smokin on that doshia, four niggas in the back screaming No Limit |
soldiers! |
True to the gizzame, stopped in the projects, sold a half an ounce of cocaine |
Hit interstate ten, to Texas |
Listening to DJ Screw just raised the Lexus |
Called up Pimp C, did a song last week with my nigga Bun B Twistin on some green spinach |
And niggas still trippin, I aint dead, I’m still in it This is for the Burbans and the Cadillac’s |
With the tens and twelves bumpin in the back |
This is for the players, hustlas, pimps and macks |
With the Benz makin ends and them paper stacks |
See pockets full of dollars already stacked strong gangsta leaning |
sideways |
Today aint Friday, ten it is and today is my day |
Take it from mister high spoke rider |
Cadillac Suburban driver, pussy diver |
Push the glock inside when I’m riding |
Flossing down the block, holla at my boys up in the third |
Got the latest word, swerve to the side of the curb |
A fiend that wanted me to serve him, I said bitch cant tell I’m off? |
But I still gave him five dollars to wipe my white walls |
And then I burst up out the block, dropped the top cause it was hot |
Hit the spot with the most hoes at the sideshow, abouts to plot |
Spin donuts, you know I’m macking, a straight up nigga |
Catch me spinnin, you can tell I was there cause I clocked smoke when |
I was |
finished |
I seen five-O, and man he tried to sweat me Thinkin he’d be nice and all cause I gotta 185 in the hood and you |
know they |
can’t catch me And if you see me chilling you can stop me But i keep that glock, 40 up on the dashboard you never know who might |
not be This is for the playas |
Playa, play on I can’t hate you homie |
Playa, play on I can’t hate you homie |
Burbans and Lacs, mansions and bitches, money and weed |
A made life is all I dream, paper chasing for that green |
I’m thugging on the scene, nigga |
Whatcha dont believe, well check the credents, they’ll tell ya A niggas living presidential, I’m on the level that you bustas will |
never feel |
My daughter thought I’d get caught up in the game and get killed |
But reverse that shit and hit the studio and make a mill |
For real, I’m slanging platinum shit until I’m old and ill |
Lil’Gotti, I’m gonna make you feel what I say, I got time to parlay |
Chill off in the bay, smoke some hay, I wouldn’t have that shit no other way |
The made life, the game tight, No Limit for life |
This is for the Burbans and the Cadillac’s |
With the tens and twelves bumpin in the back |
This is for the players smokin doolamac |
With the Benz makin ends I mean them paper stacks |
This is for the Burbans and the Cadillac’s |
With the tens and twelves bumpin in the back |
This is for the players smokin doolamac |
With the Benz makin ends I mean them paper stacks |
Playa play on I can’t hate you homie |