Текст песни A Milli - lil wayne
Bangladesh
Young
Money!
You
dig?
Yeah
Mack,
I'm
goin'
in
A
millionaire,
I'm
a
Young
Money
millionaire
Tougher
than
Nigerian
hair
My
criteria
compared
to
your
career
just
isn't
fair
I'm
a
venereal
disease
like
a
menstrual
bleed
Through
the
pencil,
and
leak
on
the
sheet
of
the
tablet
in
my
mind
'Cause
I
don't
write
shit,
'cause
I
ain't
got
time
'Cause
my
seconds,
minutes,
hours
go
to
the
almighty
dollar
And
the
almighty
power
of
that
ch-cha-cha-chopper
Sister,
brother,
son,
daughter,
father,
mother-fuck
a
copper
Got
the
Maserati
dancin'
on
the
bridge,
pussy
poppin'
Tell
the
coppers,
"Ha-ha-ha-ha"
You
can't
catch
'em,
you
can't
stop
'em
I
go
by
them
goon
rules,
if
you
can't
beat
'em
then
you
pop
'em
You
can't
man
'em
then
you
mop
'em
You
can't
stand
'em
then
you
drop
'em
You
pop
'em
'cause
we
pop
'em
like
Orville
Redenbacher
(ooh)
Muthafucka',
I'm
ill,
yeah
A
million
here,
a
million
there
Sicilian
bitch
with
long
hair,
with
coke
in
her
derriere
Like
smoke
in
the
thinnest
air,
I
open
the
Lamborghini
Hopin'
them
crackers
see
me,
like
"Look
at
that
bastard
Weezy"
He's
a
beast,
he's
a
dog,
he's
a
motherfuckin'
problem
Okay,
you're
a
goon,
but
what's
a
goon
to
a
goblin?
Nothin',
nothin',
you
ain't
scarin'
nothin'
On
some
faggot
bullshit,
call
'em
"Dennis
Rodman"
Call
me
what
you
want,
bitch,
call
me
on
my
Sidekick
Never
answer
when
it's
private,
damn,
I
hate
a
shy
bitch
Don't
you
hate
a
shy
bitch?
Yeah,
I
ate
a
shy
bitch
She
ain't
shy
no
more,
she
changed
her
name
to
My
Bitch
Yeah,
nigga,
that's
my
bitch,
so
when
she
ask
for
the
money
When
you
through,
don't
be
surprised,
bitch
It
ain't
trickin'
if
you
got
it
But
you
like
a
bitch
with
no
ass,
you
ain't
got
shit
Muthafucka',
I'm
ill,
not
sick
And
I'm
okay,
but
my
watch
sick
Yeah,
my
drop
sick,
yeah,
my
Glock
sick
And
my
knot
thick,
I'm
it
Muthafucka',
I'm
ill,
yeah,
say-
They
say
I'm
rappin'
like
B.I.G,
Jay,
and
Tupac
André
3000,
where
is
Erykah
Badu
at?
Who
that?
Who
that
said
they
gon'
beat
Lil'
Wayne?
My
name
ain't
Bic,
but
I
keep
that
flame,
man
Who
that
one
that
do
that
boy?
You
knew
that,
true
that,
swallow
And
I
be
the
shit,
now
you
got
loose
bowels
I
don't
owe
you
like
two
vowels
But
I
would
like
for
you
to
pay
me
by
the
hour
And
I'd
rather
be
pushin'
flowers
Than
to
be
in
the
pen
sharin'
showers
Tony
told
us
this
world
was
ours
And
the
Bible
told
us
every
girl
was
sour
Don't
play
in
her
garden
and
don't
smell
her
flower
Call
me
Mr.
Carter
or
Mr.
Lawn
Mower
Boy,
I
got
so
many
bitches,
like
I'm
Mike
Lowrey
Even
Gwen
Stefani,
they
say
she
couldn't
doubt
me
Muthafucka',
I
say,
"Life
ain't
shit
without
me"
Chrome
lips
pokin'
out
the
coupe,
look
like
it's
poutin'
I
do
what
I
do,
and
you
do
what
you
can
do
about
it
Bitch,
I
can
turn
a
crack
rock
into
a
mountain,
dare
me
Don't
you
compare
me
'cause
there
ain't
nobody
near
me
They
don't
see
me,
but
they
hear
me
They
don't
feel
me,
but
they
fear
me
I'm
illy,
C3,
3 Peat
1 Dr. Carter
2 3 Peat
3 Pussy Monster
4 Mrs. Officer
5 A Milli
6 Mr. Carter
7 Let the Beat Build
8 Got Money
9 Dontgetit
10 Lollipop
11 Phone Home
12 Tie My Hands
13 Comfortable
14 Shoot Me Down
15 La La
16 You Ain't Got Nuthin'
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