Burbons And Lacs

This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players, hustlas, pimps and macks
 With the Benz makin' ends, I mean them paper stacks
 This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players smokin' doolamac
 Sippin' skins, makin' dividends and riding with the straps
 (Uh) wood grain with the leather seats
 Windows so dark you need a flashlight to see me
 Smokin' on that doshia, four niggas in the back screaming, "No limit soldier"
 True to the gizzame, stopped in the projects, sold a half an ounce of cocaine
 Hit interstate ten, to Texas
 Listening to DJ Screw, just raised the Lexus
 Called up Pimp see, did a song last week with my nigga Bun be
 Twistin' on some green spinach
 And niggas still trippin', I ain't dead, I'm still in it
 This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players, hustlas, pimps and macks
 With the Benz makin' ends and them paper stacks
 See, pocket full of dollars already stacked, strong gangsta leaning sideways
 Today ain't Friday, ten it is and today is my day
 Take it from mister high spoke rider
 Cadillac Suburban driver, pussy diver
 Twist the glock inside when I'm riding
 Flossing down the block, holla at my boys up in the third
 Got the latest word, swerve to the side of the curb
 A fiend that wanted me to serve him, said bitch can't tell I'm off?
 But I still gave him five dollars to wipe my white walls
 And then I burst up out the block, dropped the top 'cause it was hot
 Hit the spot with the most hoes at the sideshow, abouts to plot
 Hittin' donuts, you know I'm macking a straight up nigga
 Catch me spinnin', you can tell I was there
 Cause like a cloud of smoke when I finished
 I seen five-O, and man he tried to sweat me
 Thinkin' he'd be nice and all 'cause I gotta 185 in the hood
 And you know they can't catch me
 And if you see me chilling, you can stop me
 But I keep that glock, 40 up on the dash
 You never know who might not be
 And this is for the playas
 Playa, play on
 I can't hate you homie
 Playa, play on
 I can't hate you homie
 Burbons and Lacs, mansions and bitches, money and weed
 A made life is all I dream, paper chasing for that green
 I'm thugging on the scene, nigga
 What, you don't believe? Well check the credentials, they'll tell ya
 A nigga's living presidential, I'm on the level that you bustas will never feel
 My daughter, I'd be caught up in the game and get killed
 But reverse that shit and hit the studio and make a mil'
 For real, I'm slanging platinum shit until I'm old and ill
 Lil' Gotti, I'ma make you feel what I say, I got time to parlay
 Chill off in the bay, smoke some hay, I wouldn't have this shit no other way
 The made life, the game tight
 This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's (no limits for like)
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players smokin' doolamac
 With the Benz makin' ends, I mean them paper stacks
 This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players smokin' doolamac
 With the Benz makin; ends, I mean them paper stacks
 Playa play on
 I can't hate you homie
 Rollin' on chrome-made candy
 
 This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players, hustlas, pimps and macks
 With the Benz makin' ends, I mean them paper stacks
 This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players smokin' doolamac
 Sippin' skins, makin' dividends and riding with the straps
 (Uh) wood grain with the leather seats
 Windows so dark you need a flashlight to see me
 Smokin' on that doshia, four niggas in the back screaming, "No limit soldier"
 True to the gizzame, stopped in the projects, sold a half an ounce of cocaine
 Hit interstate ten, to Texas
 Listening to DJ Screw, just raised the Lexus
 Called up Pimp see, did a song last week with my nigga Bun be
 Twistin' on some green spinach
 And niggas still trippin', I ain't dead, I'm still in it
 This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players, hustlas, pimps and macks
 With the Benz makin' ends and them paper stacks
 See, pocket full of dollars already stacked, strong gangsta leaning sideways
 Today ain't Friday, ten it is and today is my day
 Take it from mister high spoke rider
 Cadillac Suburban driver, pussy diver
 Twist the glock inside when I'm riding
 Flossing down the block, holla at my boys up in the third
 Got the latest word, swerve to the side of the curb
 A fiend that wanted me to serve him, said bitch can't tell I'm off?
 But I still gave him five dollars to wipe my white walls
 And then I burst up out the block, dropped the top 'cause it was hot
 Hit the spot with the most hoes at the sideshow, abouts to plot
 Hittin' donuts, you know I'm macking a straight up nigga
 Catch me spinnin', you can tell I was there
 Cause like a cloud of smoke when I finished
 I seen five-O, and man he tried to sweat me
 Thinkin' he'd be nice and all 'cause I gotta 185 in the hood
 And you know they can't catch me
 And if you see me chilling, you can stop me
 But I keep that glock, 40 up on the dash
 You never know who might not be
 And this is for the playas
 Playa, play on
 I can't hate you homie
 Playa, play on
 I can't hate you homie
 Burbons and Lacs, mansions and bitches, money and weed
 A made life is all I dream, paper chasing for that green
 I'm thugging on the scene, nigga
 What, you don't believe? Well check the credentials, they'll tell ya
 A nigga's living presidential, I'm on the level that you bustas will never feel
 My daughter, I'd be caught up in the game and get killed
 But reverse that shit and hit the studio and make a mil'
 For real, I'm slanging platinum shit until I'm old and ill
 Lil' Gotti, I'ma make you feel what I say, I got time to parlay
 Chill off in the bay, smoke some hay, I wouldn't have this shit no other way
 The made life, the game tight
 This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's (no limits for like)
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players smokin' doolamac
 With the Benz makin' ends, I mean them paper stacks
 This is for the Burbons and the Cadillac's
 With the tens and the twelves bumpin' in the back
 This is for the players smokin' doolamac
 With the Benz makin; ends, I mean them paper stacks
 Playa play on
 I can't hate you homie
 Rollin' on chrome-made candy