Young Money – Fuck the bullshit Lyrics

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[Birdman]
Yeah - cut it up, gimme a light
Yeah, and by the way nigga
It's Young Moolah, first lady

[Nicki Minaj]
Ungh, yo, yo
Let us begin with the bad little specimen
Balenciagas only things I be steppin in
Pucci bathing suits, only thing I'm dressin in
Cause I get wetter than a navy seal veteran
Got-got 'em writin love letters in they journal
Keep em on these toes like a midget at the urinal
B-b-b-bad as I wanna be
She ain't bad, she a sad little wannabe

[Birdman]
Yeah fuck the bullshit, it's big money poppin
Young Moolah! Yeah, just like that
What up young nigga, let's go
Gudda

[Gudda Gudda]
Okay we runnin this shit, when we walk in the buildin
Got bitches from wall to wall, hoes hangin from the ceilin
Young Money we 'bout to kill 'em, I promise I'll make a million
And if they didn't have no hands I'll bet them bitches go feel 'em
I'm talkin money and power; you gettin money? I doubt it
Fresher than baby powder, wit'cha bitch in the shower
That pussy I'mma devour I beat it up 'til it's sour
No need for you to even trip bitch I'll be done in a hour, let's go

[Lil Wayne]
Heyeah, that's more like it - Junior!
They say the blacker the berry, the redder the cherry
I say the sweeter it is, ya dig? Bury
Then the bullshit varies, and it got me weary
But I know two of the same, call it murdered and married
Hustlin is so necessary, with no adversaries
But ain't no love, like a calendar with no Februarys
I'ma need four secretary, and four Bloody Marys
I'ma go eat me some pussy, and choke off the cherry I'm gone

[Birdman]
Yeah, fully loaded with it
To the ceilin with it
Mo' money than you ever seen nigga
Aight, Drizzy, Drake

[Drake]
Look, kill the game no one recovers the murder weapon
Young angel if you hate me tell me burn in heaven
How'd ya sleep on me? The highest earnin freshmen
Like your third infection, I hope you learned your lesson
Yeah, I spit raw but I prefer protection
I own her heart and her mind, and the shirt she slept in
Bitch I got the answer, and still ain't heard the question
I shut ya club down, please reserve my section
Fuck a confrontation, there ain't no cake in it
And I'm cakin bitch so tell me why I take a break from it
The mother of yo' child always tell you I'm her favorite
She call me her baby, not the one she was in labor with
She say "ooh you taste good," I say "ooh just savor it"
She know that she love a nigga I be on that major shit
Cause I get paid to stand, and I get paid to sit
So I don't walk around with money baby girl I'm made of it

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