[Intro: Lil Wayne]
E-Class, I think we got a problem
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Yeah, big money in this bitch, if you didn't knew
Big business, minus the business suit
Even I look in the mirror like, "Is it you?"
And I say, "I must be the hottest, if it isn't you!"
Stay fresh from my top to my tennis shoes
New coupe, no top, big tennis shoes
Never slipping, even on the side of a swimming pool
We don't get ridiculed, we get rid of fools!
They said I couldn't play football, I was too small
They said I couldn't play basketball, I wasn't tall
They said I couldn't play baseball at all
And now every day of my life, I ball
And they say you ain't great, 'til someone assassinate
And I feel like MLK
Yeah, "I Have A Dream" to be your worst nightmare
And now meet The Boss of The Cartel - ROSS
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
I'm a sinner, not Satan
Sitting on Lorenzos and I seem really patient
Picture the equation
People taking pictures and they really getting flagrant
Flagging down my spaceship, sergeant sniffing for a fragrance!
Yayo! Yayo! He wanna' sniff the yayo!
Flying saucer on the hasa, in the casa just to lay low
Make more money man, that's the motto for the mob
Need a blow-job - my motto, get a model for the job
Go hard, no job - hustler, no prob
Post up, nigga what? Finger-fuck your whole squad
Forty round extend-o, flip you for my kinfolk
Luxury tax on them packs, if you didn't know
Bought a new crib, niggas feeling like I hid
3.2, but I just did it for the kids
More guns than a pawnshop
Got my whole arm rocked
Keep the 760, double-parked in the wrong spot
Still hustling
BOSS!
[Hook: Lil Wayne]
Yeah, you gotta pay for this
I remember when I used to pray for this
This, this is classic
Some shit you might not see again
And we taxing, you don't want it - nigga, leave it then!
And we taxing, you don't want it - nigga, leave it then!
And we ain't trying to see the pen
Like a needle in a hay tack, we ain't trying to see the pin / pen)
This is a luxury tax!
[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]
Yeah, imagine this , no, imagine that!
Gave me my sack like, "Good luck getting back!"
I'm like, "The fuck I'm gon' hide it at?"
And if I'm not careful, be the same place they find it at
And I'm a winner, if I make it across the finish line
Putting food on the table like it's dinner time
And this is what you call stereotyping about far?
Can you tell me my your dog keep sniffing my car?
Got the audacity to call me a liar
So what you got in your trunk?
Oh, just a spare tire!
You niggas talked blow, while I sold mine
Like a bad cramp, it's locking up in no time
More time in the kitchen than I spent in the studio
"Gangsta's Paradise" and I ain't talking about Coolio
Can't lie, still addicted to the odour
Got a ice cold Pepsi, but still thinking Coca-Cola
Haha!
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Trick Daddy]
I'm up early in the morning and I'm dressed in black
Hold on, every morning I get dressed in black!
While y'all half-ass - nigga, my pants sagging
I'm getting money and my swagger, black-flagging
Million dollar status, fully automatic
Heavy on the Henny and even harder on the women
If it wasn't for Reverend, I'd probably be pimping and shit
Pops, my papi - is already in me (in me!)
Tried trapping, shit sent me to prison
Got mad and went to snapping, so homicide came to visit
I smell gun powder, so you got one hour
To come up with every damn dollar - or you're done, dollar!
It costs to ball, dog
Especially when the players on your team consider you as the ball hog
You treat me like Shaq and you Kobe
But I ain't say you owe me, nigga!
But act like you know me, nigga!
[Hook]
