B-Boyz

[Verse 1: Kendrick Lamar] Talk about it, make em talk about it Life to me is currency, prosperity I got it And your life to me is lifeless like its livin' on life support I license everything in my wallet, lightest boy with the biggest heart Nigga play your part or parallel park your ego next to me and violence Next to me is definitely no one, I'm one of one And I musta won that from anybody who had it or better yet forgot it Mack in the back of a 'Lac with a mac in the back of a 'Lac With a latch on the back of the trunk Hit a punk in the back with a pump in the back, till he's off balance And I'm back in the front of the front of the future When you are mentioning talent And I'm back in the back of the block With a cop wanna cop anybody's allowance Iraq on the block G watch for the block or whatever And cut no cut more guns more guts fuck boy you fucked up twice you fucked considerin' you drownin' Die in a lake with a date with a catfish back flip head first smilin' C-cry in the face of Jesus we just pray we keep on stylin' On you bitches TDE YMCMB business bitch [Verse 2: Ace Hood] Okay nigga riding in a May-be, and I'm probably with Baby Dont talk nigga fuck you pay me, intercept your bitch like Bailey Okay big money on this side, 100 grand for the whip my bitch drive Need a new safe money getting too high, dead presidents all in my Levis Boy I swear this nigga be swagging, and I'm living lavish Might cop me an Aston, Martin on 'em Anything I drive I own 'em, bad bitch and that ass ain't normal Gotta put that pound game on her, beat it up she deep in a coma I'm super paid, 2 shows a day My rollie gold, no time to waste What it do Berg, my fuckin' brother Keep that pistol by me like my lovely momma Hot as the summer, cold as the winter Stay on them charts, I heard that they plotting my timber Young nigga, got a lot of flows Any nigga don't believe me, I make it look easy easy out of control [Verse 3: Birdman] Box full of choppers, hand on the trigger Uptown gangsta, get it how we get it Third Ward soldier, suicide rider Militant minded, hundred mill on the counter Hand-Persian rug nigga, flame on the Bugatti Christian Louboutin, Chanel for my models Higher than Bugatti nigga, fishing on the fish scales Nose diving for them hundreds, strapped up making mail Fr-fresher than I been before Higher than we even been, shining on them 24’s Junior doing time ho On the grind ho, while he doing time ho [Interlude: Mack Maine] Ya know! The time is money and money still was made baby Eight months ain’t stop nothing nigga It’s like jail was third base and my lil’ nigga still came home, ya understand [Verse 4: Mack Maine] I’m from the hood where bitches hold coke in they baby diapers That’s why when the babies grow up damn they be like us I came a long ways from rhyming up in crazy cyphers Man I’m so happy my lil’ brother came home from Rikers Shout out to BP, Thugga, Flow and [Fail Boy?] My flow Lucifer, I spit hell boy My heart numb, ain’t no pain I can’t withstand And I hold my niggas down boy like a kickstand Get off my nuts, stop acting like a bitch fam Lil’ nigga finish puberty, grow ya own dick damn I went from watching time fly on Earl and Red porch To cruising through the streets of Miami in a red Porsche Me and Stunna fly, we should join the Air Force Stand up niggas, the fuck you brought them chairs for? I went from making money from people with crack habits To thanking God I’m in a whole ‘nother tax bracket Amen