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luniz - sad millionaire lyrics
can i do my thang??
-(yukmouth)-
speak on it
-(brownstone)-
oh, oh, ohhh
oh, oh, ohh, hey
verse 1 -(yukmouth)-
uh
n-ggas be havin the m-th- f-ckin blues
like 5-0-5’s
i won’t lie
homicide
gram will cry
pray for me that i won’t die
suicide
i won’t try
bullets fly
drive-by
don’t let it slide, do or die
you an i, slide by
catch them n-ggas off my side
wit nothin to hide body die rot
on they porch
when i expectin some sort of drive-by
type retaliation
under styles i lace, mobbulation
lets begin breakin down the situation
when, the end of our frustration
so while we racin down the block, wit a thirty-eight, an glock
the cops is waitin to umm
accelerate on yo vehicle
run down yo vehicle
even if they have to gun down yo vehicle
n-gga, up in these high-speedaz
police they be the rosco bico train
swervin in an outta lanes
runnin from o-h-a
with a throw-away
a throw-away
pistol
every m-th- f-cka wanna peep
chorus x2 -(brownstone & yukmouth)-
millionaire!
dreams of big millions play
ever seen a sad millionaire?
i thought that money make us happy
verse 2 -(yukmouth)-
what if i was a millionaire
huh
a major playa on the block
that a mac daddy, drivin a black caddy couldn’t stop
h-lla strap happy
cuz n-ggas slangin all my rocks
point yo gats at me
i don’t know where uzis to yo knot
fo f-ckin wit the big shot
i was juss flat droppin g bannos on the ground
be down
that’s one of my sh-t, an get shot
only the baddest b-tches jock
get chosen
global shouts
for b-tches out there who be voguin
on the collar of poppa
brand new hundred dolla billz, an a choppa
where n-ggas strapped fo real, like chubacca
who got the gonga
cuz i be high like phone doctor
spark on vodka
eatin lobster, bumpin frank sinatra
smoke-a-lot be the mobbsta, who shot ya
like vinny blanca
come back in the end juss to haunt ya
plus i twist a benz like big poppa
what’s the big proper use
go get yo bread an do what ya gots to be a
millionaire playa
chorus x2
verse 3 -(yukmouth)-
uh
you n-ggas juss created a monsta
f-ck a type, i smoke gonga
in the bahammas
f-ckin yo baby mama
doggystyle (whoo,wee!)
two wow, you wow
doubt man
who wow “bout it, bout it”
n-ggas be claimin they be the ice cream man
but i doubt it, doubt it
be rowdy
hit the paper chasin clout it
sky up out the ugly four day la-la-by yo cuttie like a ballot
smokin blunts, an crunchin weed, s-x
fresh outta drug rehabs
spend two g’s at every function i be at
believe that, b-tch!!
ya mind is smoke-a-lot
grab b-tches by the throat-a-lot
that’s what ya told the cops
i hold the glock
aim it an fire
retire another n-gga
nameless
game is fo hire
desire chariots fire
light as i’m a tuck her
we’re so called “potnaz”, f-ck ’em
an dust em off wit a choppa, i can’t rush ’em
gotta bust ’em
too skinny i can’t trust ’em
an when the m-th- f-ckaz got meal tickets you might have to love ’em
an that’s fo real
n-gga
chorus x5
-(yukmouth talking during chorus)-
have all this f-ckin money, an still ain’t happy. n-gga, still got
problems wit stress, m-th- f-ckaz juss think you got it made, they try
to rob you an sh-t, yo own potnaz in the hood juss wanna love you. f-ck
money, i wish i didn’t have it, cuz when i didn’t have it it was all
good, n-ggas loved me when i was juss drinkin brew an sh-t at the store
now ya got money everybody wanna k!ll me, n-gga, ya own relatives wanna
do you, skanless boy, this is nine skrillion, make a million bucks
millionaire
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