Big Timer (feat. Mia X)

Chorus [fiend]: x 2 Whoa there, big timer, big timer I got money to the ceiling Whoa there, big timer Won't 'cha, make your money and do what ya wanna [Mia x] Let the champagne glasses, cashes, comin out the ass Drinks for everybody, biggest mama stickin up the tab (mama mia) Don't even ask if I could handle it Bitch you didn't know I'm stackin ends like the clampets (there it is) Down south hustlin, workin my musc-lin Mint greens labeled in God we trust'n Bustin at the haters in the way of progress Cause I ain't tryin to live from month to month (naw) that's stress I only want the best that there is off the top But I ain't bout to brag about the shit I don't got So when you see the e4-20 know that it's mine, paid out in full So I put it in my rhyme Thirty two hundred square foot, no doubt Manicured landscape, and this my house Paid out too, so I know I got the room To state the fact that them hoes don't like that But fuck that big timers put your knot in the air And cock your nine for them jackers out there Live your life, boy Chorus x 2 [Fiend] I be crackin like chiropractors Fiend the young bachelor That's too many muthafuckin million dollars, what I'm after Meal ticket stash-a from brick flippin plaster Now forever paid with mama mia and the master I cause disasters from the s's to the g No clubs won't start without the presense of me Ya better ask somebody, my cake give knee chills Givin migraine headaches from breakin these bills See these chills but can't get to it, we way out Every (?) that I drive on chrome, is paid out Close to the house on the hill, but no wife Take the diamonds out my rol, your house have no light The more ice, I'm wicked you're sick, and just piss ya Might take a long line, the dance floor on whispers Chorus x 2