Ice Cream

Young Money, syrup in the big shot Time to do the thing, that's word to your wrist watch Shoot the Glock til it burn, til my wrist lock Rims hella big, tires skinny like Chris Rock Hold the gun sideways like O-Dog Shoot a nigga in his face, knock his nose off Make the girls say my name like roll call Pain killers got a nigga about to doze off Big shit, nigga talk big shit, nigga Big bread: bread like a picnic nigga Shake the whole game like the hit-stick nigga Money spread like germs: get sick nigga Yea, and fuck them other niggas 1-900: who want it? I deliver Concrete shoes won't help in the river I don't care if you was Michael Phelps my nigga I'm higher than the motherfucking Alps my nigga I'm flyer than the motherfucking stealth my nigga Young Money shit, top-shelf my nigga We the motherfuckers like MILF my nigga Ahem, flow like syringes Yea I'm in my mode, got a code like Da Vinci's I was in the trenches, now I'm in the Trump And everybody watch your back when you're in the front You ain't never safe, stop playing with a gangsta Bring it to his face and he ran like a flanker Bend the girl over, put her hands on her ankles I'm all over this ice cream beat like sprinkles "Why thank you", if you's a hater I'm eating, you's a waiter Pistol on my hip: Tomb Raider Holla at your guala, zoom later Young Tune nigga, typhoon nigga And if you think you're sweet, buy a room nigga Damu nigga I'm on my gang shit She give me good brain like she studied at Cambridge Lighting up a motherfucking blunt Stupid fruity swag like a motherfucking runt And I be with my dog like I motherfuckin' hunt And every day of the week is the first of the month Audemars Piguet with the diamonds in the face Can't tell the time cause the diamonds in the face We can get it popping like a semi automatic And if you got beef I put the biscuit on a patty Rockstar tatted, big-money addict Running this shit, now I'm feeling athletic I'm on a boat bitch, getting sea sick Stop playing, I'm fresher then a degree stick Street shit, well, of course I smoke mare weed I'm on my high-horse, please don't shoot me down, I land feet flat Then walk a million miles with New Orleans on my back Ha, I need a massage And when it comes to hoes, man, I got a collage Finger on the button, nigga just stuntin' If you ain't the bank teller, don't tell me nothin' Kush so strong you can smell me comin' Bitch, I go hard like the boy from "300" You think y'all kick it, well boy we puntin' Young Money baby we the shit weak stomachs No Ceilings motherfucker