Lyrics
Cook and cut, nigga
Ice believe it, playboy #1 Stunner nigga
These niggas got Atrice, fucked up
My shit came, but my package bust up
Whoever did it to me, they hiding out
I’ma kill him, if I find out
What I gotta lie about, I done been through it
We’ll do it in a minute, CF-5 with the windows tinted
My whole wardrobe, Jabos and Reeboks tennis
Before it’s over, all my people gon be up in it
You might see me up in Popeye’s, trying to get me some grub
You might see me bat this bitch up, cause she went to the club
You might see me following behind, C-Note on dubs
You might see me leading it, one of these hoes wan' fuck
I’m not a number one stunner, but I’m still in the race
Baby holding it down, I’m just pleading my case
I want’s my position, nigga leave me some space
They gotta let me do this, cause I know what it takes
Now if you rolling in the club, and you sitting on dubs
Let me hear you say (nah, nah)
You got that ice up on your wrist, and you know you the shit
Let me hear you say (nah, nah)
You scratching haters off your list, hollin' Screwed Up Click
Let me hear you say (nah, nah)
C-Note I know you loving my style, I’m like I’m child
And Juvenile, got these hoes running wild
Botany Boys/Hot Boys, we be nothing but soldiers
Putting it down from that Clover, all the way to that Nolia
Got these tats up on my arm, R.I.P. to that Gator
Two straps up in my palm, bust on all of you haters
Trying to put twenty karats, up around my throat
I’m trying to put living lavish, all up on my boat
Third Coast down South, we be living real lovely
Rolls Royce with that grill, got me looking real bubbly
And I just spent another mill, on my new-new home
Cause you looking at my rims, cause they two-two chrome
And them boys put they candy, on them S.U.V.'s
Full equipped Playstation, with the DVD’s
And I just put plenty platinum, up on my Hummer
I roll around in Houston Texas, with the #1 Stunner the #1 Stunner
If you the type of boy, that put the rocks in your grill
Let me hear you say (nah, nah)
If you the type of boy, that put the mansion on the hill
Let me hear you say (nah, nah)
Spent 300 on your cars, cause we ghetto stars
Let me hear you say (nah, nah)
Steady blowing on them gars, got the mansion with bars
Let me hear you say (nah, nah)
Now who feared by niggas, and loved by broads
Love driving fast cars, playing with expensive toys
Acting bad haters mad, we in a Testerosa
Nigga shine like them diamonds, on the Botany poster
Homie best to get your roll on, like Baby and Fresh
Haters wanna try to test, they catch three to they flesh
Cause we bling-blinging, and got the Glock five sing-singing
My bank account X amount, got me ching-chinging
It’s gonna take you plenty years, to pefect my style
I been doing this for years, I protect my child
Ask Baby and Juvenile, mayn they know what’s up
I keep them Roley’s iced up, filled with princess cuts
(*talking*)
How you love that nigga, another platinum hit
Know I’m saying, Screwed Up Click we in this bitch thick
You know Mr. Lucky Luchiano, Juvenile
Nigga Baby the #1 Stunner, in your face nigga
Big Shots/Cash Money, better realized you harmonized nigga