F*** Da Bulls*** (feat. Birdman)

Yeah Cut it up gimme a light Yeah and by the way nigga Its Young Mula, first lady Uhhh yo yo Let us begin with the bad lil' specimen Ballenciago's is all these things I be steppin' in Gucci bathing suits, only thing I'm dressin' in Cause I get wetter than a navy seal veteran Got them writing 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 and a wannabe Yeah fuck the bullshit It's big money poppin' Young Mula! Yeah Just like that What up young nigga Lets go Gudda Okay we runnin' this shit, when we walk in the building Got bitches from wall to wall, hoes hangin' from the ceiling 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 power, with your bitch in the shower That pussy imma devour, I beat it up till it's sour No need for you to even trip bitch I'll be done in a hour Let's go! Junior They say the blacker the berry, the redder the cherry I say sweeter it is, ya dig.berry Then the bullshit varies, and it got me weary But I know two of the same, call it murdered and married Hustling is so necessary, with no avisaries But aint no love, like a calendar with no February's Imma need four secretary, and four Bloody Mary's Imma go eat me some pussy, and choke up the cherry I'm gone Yeah Fully loaded with it, to the ceiling with it More money than you ever seen nigga Aiight, Drizzy, Drake Look Kill the game no one recovers the murder weapon Young angel if ya hate me tell me burn in heaven How'd you sleep on me, the highest earning freshmen Like ya 3rd infection, I hope ya learned ya 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, they aint no cakin' it And I'm cakin' bitch, so tell me why I take a break from it The mother of your child always tell you I'm her favorite She call me her baby, not the one she was in labor with She say 'oh you taste good', I say 'oh 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.