paroles de chanson MHM - Lil Darius

I ran up a couple thousand in the projects, mm-hmm
A menace to the judge, the hood don't like the profit, mm-hmm
I'm selling songs, I gave up on the narcotics, mm-hmm
Put this shit on like them folks got my a stylist, mm-hmm
Do you got cake? Mm-hmm
You chasing pape', mm-hmm
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah
Mm-hmm, oh yeah
Mm-hmm, oh yeah
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah

I walk in with three hoes, that's a thirty, ten, ten, ten
They go drop a diss, tornado gang, we spin, spin, spin
Like Mike Epps and Ice Cube, I'm all 'bout my Benji's
If they play about my money, I'ma mad, man, man, man (Yeah)
If they think I'm running out of money
Then them dummies gon' be thuggin'
For a very long damn time (Damn time)
She think she P, lil' bitch, I'm P-er, I treat you like a eater
I'm blocking hoes like I'm on the line (On the line)
I'm pickin' up when money call, balling like I'm Spaulding
And I ain't tryna kick it with no niggas, so don't
Play soccer
She walk into my room like an adult walk out, just like a toddler
You knowin' what that mean
Lil Darius put that dick up in her box (Yeah)

I ran up a couple thousand in the projects, mm-hmm
A menace to the judge, the hood don't like the profit, mm-hmm
I'm selling songs, I gave up on the narcotics, mm-hmm
Put this shit on like them folks got my a stylist, mm-hmm
Do you got cake? Mm-hmm
You chasing pape', mm-hmm
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah
Mm-hmm, oh yeah
Mm-hmm, oh yeah
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah

I know I'm the biggest snake, like a tree, I'm having pape'
They think its my birthday everyday the way I'm having cake
I just flew my bitch out to Miami, know she can't fit her jeans
Whole gang forever ball, they think that we got leukemia
Out of they league, no competition, they can't even compete with me
In my bookbag, I got a whole lotta paper like a geek
My brother, mm, got a whole lotta bodies like a freak
Big motherfuckin' choppa, BMF, I fuck with Meech (Blaow)
I pop out, I'm fresh as hell, nobody in my family got them M's
I guess I broke the spell
Drop a ten, my partner fix it all and he don't leave a trail
I can go and tap my country boy
It cheaper when you just go through the mail (Ha)

I ran up a couple thousand in the projects, mm-hmm
A menace to the judge, the hood don't like the profit, mm-hmm
I'm selling songs, I gave up on the narcotics, mm-hmm
Put this shit on like them folks got my a stylist, mm-hmm
Do you got cake? Mm-hmm
You chasing pape', mm-hmm
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah
Mm-hmm, oh yeah
Mm-hmm, oh yeah
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah