Soulja Boy
Soulja Boy - 2Milli songtekst
Je score:
[Intro:] The Best Rapper Alive. Weezy Say 1 Milli I Say 2. [Laugh] This my new album "the deandre way" 2009 is over. 2010 is here! Listen Yo! I did what I wanted, niggas did what they could A lion wouldn't cheat but a Tiger would I only keep real niggas in my stable A million dollar chain, I'm feeling like Gucci's label So icey I really don't care Haters green as a pool table and they twice as square Had to cut a couple bitches, them niggas need stitches I'm getting money out the tree y'all niggas getting switches Similar to Nas, I need a mic though Chop the bread up, Tae Kwon Do They pass me the game like Tom Brady These rappers chances looking slim just like shady Niggas locked behind my bars I'm taking out prisoners Sit back relax recieving my residual Think this song is dope shit wait til you see the visual Please brace yourself this shit about to get critical Let it be known I got rappers on my hit list I got so many gifts you would swear I stole Christmas Word to the Grinch bitch my style will switch quick I knew this all along I was waiting just to hit the kill switch Since day one man your boy been the truth Broke so many records like I'm in the glass booth Like I'm in the glass studio breaking out barriers Back on crime I was screaming out Ellen wood ? area nigga I ain't scared of ya, never ever will be I'm screaming I'm the best till these rappers kill me Make the people feel me like the blind men do On your girl head so much like her favorite shampoo I'm traveling where I want, soulja's vacation My mind is so free, ? proclamation I'm so hot, haters evaporating 6 bitches on my dick I'm elimidating I'm high every friday just like smokey I'm spitting real shit, these niggas spitting Karaoke Hit stick with the flow just like Madden I'm so high on my carpet feeling like Alladin I spit hot flames bitch just like a dragon And my pants saggin Spell it backwards niggas Niggas get heated when they see the coupe on I don't give a fuck got my Pyrex suit on I'm a keep rapping til the fans hear the best of me I'm cooking up the game bitch yeah I got the recipe You ain't gotta like me just please respect it Hip hop is dead nigga let me resurrect it Microphone check it, uno, dos, tres, I'm a keep spitting til they crown me the best The rap games a mess, let me clean it up It's a pigsty they going ham give it up Flying down the highway a million on the dashboard You can't start my car up unless you got the password I'm something like a prophecy spit so properly When my album drops watch how many rappers copy me Haters opinions are obsolete Don't make pop music so it ain't no pop in me And my brains a bitch where she at when I need her Ya pack nines, I pack nine kilometers Ya did'nt want beef why would ya start it Cameras flashing like you walking down the red carpet First you was nameless now I'm a make you famous Hit you with the stainless and leave your ass brainless