| I might piece him up and let my partner smoke him
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| Chuck E Cheese, I’m about pizza and my Rol' on
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| I’m a gangster, I don’t dance, baby I poke
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| Right now I’m surrounded by some gangsters from Magnolia
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| I heard I put it in the spot, yessir she told me
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| My niggas muggin', these niggas YSL loaded
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| I heard my Nolia niggas not friendly, like no way
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| But we not friendly either, you know it
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| Yeah thumbs up
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| I’ve seen more holes than a golf course on Donald Trump’s course
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| My bitch a tall blooded horse, nigga, bronco
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| And if you catch us down bet you’re not gon' trunk us
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| You got a body, lil nigga, we got a ton of 'em
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| You got some Robin’s, lil nigga, we got some Badmans
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| I let that choppa go «blocka, blocka, «get back, son
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| You got them MJs, nigga, I got them Jacksons (racks)
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| But really what is it to do
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| When the whole world constantly hatin' on you?
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| Pussy niggas hold their nuts, masturbatin' on you
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| Meanwhile the fuckin' federal baitin' on you
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| Nigga tell me what you do
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| Would you stand up or would you turn to a pussy nigga?
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| I got a hundred things to do
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| And I can stop rappin' but I can’t stop stackin' fuckin' figures
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| Yeah, I’m from that mothafuckin' 'Nolia, nigga
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| Birdman’ll break a nigga nose, lil' nigga
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| You need to slow your fuckin' roll, lil' nigga
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| We created Ks on shoulders, nigga
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| I’m a scary fuckin' sight, lil' nigga
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| We won a hundred mil' on fights, lil' nigga
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| A hundred bands, sure you’re right, lil' nigga
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| I keep some AKs on my flights, lil' nigga
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| Birdman Willie B
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| Smoke some stunna blunts, now my eyes Chinese
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| Hundred K on private flights overseas
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| Choppas City nigga, free BG
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| Bentley with the doors all 'round, not a Jeep
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| Rich nigga shit, smoke two pounds in a week
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| Can’t find a bitch that don’t know we them streets
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| Bitches know that I am Birdman, that’s OG
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| Nigga I’m a crack addict
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| Thought about lettin' them get a cut, then I went and snagged at it
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| The new' Boosie Badazz at it
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| I’m a drop a nigga life, just like a bad habit
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| I stick to the ground like a mothafuckin' rug
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| I’m a big dog, lil' fuck nigga you a pup
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| Lil' bitch clean your drawers before you think you’re a thug
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| Before I be in front your shows, just like your pub
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| I ain’t even lyin', baby
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| I swear to God I ain’t lyin', baby
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| First I’ll screw you without these pliers, baby
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| I might dap you like, «good try, «baby
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| Big B livin', baby
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| Them boys on my left throwin' up Cs
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| I promise their mama see them this week
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| And I don’t break promises with my Ds (them my dogs)
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| I want Ms and cheese, mister Mickey Ds
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| She know I am a beast, I am obese
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| In Miami I swear they don’t got good weed
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| Wiz Khalifa can you give me some weed please?
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| Yeah, overseas, nigga, top floor, clear windows, nigga
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| Glass house, drankin' GT, you understand?
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| We in that Red Light District, you understand?
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| 3 and 1, that mean 3 on me, nigga, you understand me?
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| Just livin' the life, boy, aye Thug, just a dollar for a 1, nigga
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| We can blow a mil', boy. |
| Rich Gang YSL, bratt! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Constantly Hating , by - Birdman. Song from the album Money on My Mind, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп