Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Big Spender, artist - Raekwon. Album song The Vatican Mixtape, Vol. 1, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.02.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: YLimit
Song language: English
Big Spender |
Yo, let the slugs fly, thug status, still camera shy |
Elevate to get money and still scramble lah |
Get drunk, start wildin', old young niggas with talent |
Gold on me and my ho’s look violent |
Live bitches, five sixes, flick it up, flyin' pictures |
More flips now, niggas is dipped different |
Renegades, Escalades, all fly ladies in shades |
Get the best of me, bless me on stage |
Drop your jerseys all year round, I’m here now |
Merlot in a glass, smoke a hundred bad, pop you with a pair of pounds |
Toss money, no laws, pop you with a pair of pounds |
Sauce money, no loss, pop you with a pair of pounds |
Own towns, niggas is grown now, we got it sown now |
Jumpin' out the whip, gunnin' a four now |
Yo, extra careful, when we home, now |
It’s like a ghost town, the Narc’s got the shit sowed down, come on |
Spit it for my niggas that’s locked up |
Six hundred Benz, kid, rocked up |
Up in the club, close the bar when we popped up |
Got a forty cal' thirty shot Glock up |
And I’m warning ya’ll shit about to pop off |
Shorties in the club, take ya tops off |
Yo, it’s an art to rhyming |
Ya’ll niggas can crush a stone, try crushin' a Diamond |
Yo, it' the great adventures of Lex, checks on me Air Force vet’s |
Yo, supply the whole hood with the wet |
I love money, pa, spend that kid, yeah, it’s the 600 Benz cat |
Rimmed up, bout to bring the brims back |
Terri cloth, Rudolph joints, valor pockets, Mr. G-Off |
D or Cavalier robes, we see ya’ll |
Cash that’ll put 'em order, you little fishes |
Ain’t big enough for Icewater, paralyze the right corner |
Staten Island assailant, call Malinari now |
Hand him that, we about to take sons cabinet |
Chef got it genuine style, pink verizen with the great logic |
Hands is like the Ali project |
Wolves of Shaolin, we look good hooded up |
One tough challenge, rough 'em up, bring out his raw talents |
Money maker, send them to us |
Remember the symbol, the Gods got the paper, now you with us, let’s go |
Aiyo, speak up, we up, villains in the beat truck |
Unique luck, leafed up, playin' in the suite, feet up |
Come here, boo, just feel it, locked down, niggas can hear it |
Blazin' in PJ’s, it’s time, let the ill reveal it, yo |
Wall to wall jump off’s, fly shorty, live sneakers and speakers |
Makin' sure the vibe ain’t corny, yo |
Scarface kids, kings only |
Jail heads know me, Chef got it locked, my block |
We got more to rag you with, black, come through, kid |
Park Hill Projects, send him through, mashin' it, step |
No Hollywood, yeah dear, more paper, more acres |
To sell on, we all got it fresh, from raw tapes |
The kid that traveled the world |
All this came from the lobby, I took it to Japan from curbs |
Yo, swindlers transformin' to ninjas, injure anything |
Remember all my mans, is when we spendin', we the. |
Ha ha, ha ha, yeah |
Word up, yeah, we back |
It’s on, word up… |