Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sad Millionaire, artist - Yukmouth. Album song Thugged Out: The Albulation, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.02.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Smoke-A-Lot
Song language: English
Sad Millionaire |
I’m juss a thousandaire |
But pretty soon I plan to be a millionaire |
Playa hatas best beware! |
Don’t hate on mine |
When you want that sim to shine! |
Don’t hate on mine |
When you want that sim to shine! |
Verse 1 *(Yukmouth)* |
Nigga. |
Let’s do it |
I’m tryin to touch mo' money than Bill Gates |
But know that |
When you get the money they will hate |
Them broads that hang around you wit the ice grill face |
Be the broads that lay you and take you to an ill place |
Where the doe at? |
They know you ballin, cuz you deal weight |
You better show that, nigga where the safe is at while you still safe |
Cuz, niggas will take yo life |
Probably rape yo wife |
If they can’t say China white, now say goodnight! |
To the bad guy |
In a ski mask guy |
I been gettin cash guy |
Ever since my dad died |
Me and my real boys |
In Mazda-has |
Bitches wit, cat eyes feed me lobster ya’ll |
If I wanna ride I cop it, dawg |
If I gotta flip one for my chocolate dawg |
Juss like we shop at the mall |
Don’t knock it ya’ll |
I been ballin since the days of Genesis |
And Benz’s flipped |
Tinted shit, while you just rentin shit |
Pretendin it’s, yours |
Drivin Honda Accord’s and Ford Probe’s |
Niggas flossin them hoes |
My name is known across the globe |
See me talkin on shows |
Rolex rockin them hoes |
Knockin on my door lookin fo yo bitch, I put the Glock to your nose |
Verse 2 *(Phats Bossalini)* |
Blast the blood clot |
My niggas makin money non-stop |
Off the rock |
Another hundred to cop |
Fiends blisterin |
All action |
We G’s wit Mac-10's |
Co-captian |
Boss was sworen as a coppo |
Take bread |
Live like Macho, push the throttle |
Jet black seat pushed back in a Diablo |
Die slow |
My niggas want it and triffle it |
Hummer shit |
Cover my mic cuz it’s priceless |
Ice this |
Rolex piece, watch and Jeep |
Niggas lose sleep |
Trainin my beasts how to feast |
Where the broke eat |
Approach yo block wit guns |
Cops will come |
Spread the bread in lumps son |
My nigga John John |
He had his head on tight |
Hit the pipe |
Now he tweaked, high as a kite |
I used to shed tears |
Knew damn deep he didn’t care |
Hope and dreams that was all that’s there to be a millionaire |
Verse 3 *(Phats Bossalini)* |
My niggas rock solid |
Make the money be the object |
Fuck a colleauge |
I’m off the clock rockin dollas |
See us |
Peep us |
It’s juss the three of us |
Me an Yuk, plus Mad Maxx been out to get some |
Verse 4 *(Yukmouth)* |
Feed it up |
Soon as I get up |
I got to roll a phat spliff up |
Smoke til it burn my finger tips an lips up |
Drinkin liquor til I get the hic ups |
Fuck bad bitches then we switch up |
Fuck bad bitches then we switch up |
Verse 5 *(Phats Bossalini)* |
Watch me shine in my nine-nine custom design |
Niggas sniffin lines sayin Boss committed a crime |
I robbed the bomb shelter |
Shipped the goods off the delta |
Task asks if Phats the man wit no replica |
Verse 6 *(Yukmouth)* |
No replica |
Put the tech to ya |
Smiff-N-Wesson ya |
Here’s the lesson to be learned, don’t test the young Hugh Heffener |
4 point 6 snatchin up yo bitch |
An when it comes to mics I wreck this shit |
Collectin chips |
Disrespect yo click |
I come wit real shit |
From the Village Oak-Town |
Raised a drug dealer, to be rappin and stars Mo Town |
On the low down, I used to blow brown, but now I blow pounds |
Went from bein ugly as fuck, to havin hoes now |
You know now |