A milli

A millionaire, I’m a young money millionaire
Tougher than Nigerian hair
My criteria compared to your career just isn’t fair
I’m a venereal disease
Like a menstrual—bleed
Through the pencil and leak on the sheet of the tablet in my mind
Cause I don’t write shit, cause I ain’t got time
Cause my seconds, minutes, hours go to the almighty dollar
And the almighty power of that ch-ch-ch-chopper
Sister, brother, son, daughter, father, motherfuck a copper
Got the Maserati dancin’ on the bridge, pussy poppin’
Tell the coppers ha-ha-ha you can’t catch him, you can’t stop him
I go by them goon rules, if you can’t beat ‘em then you pop ‘em
You can’t man ‘em, then you mop ‘em
You can’t stand ‘em, then you drop ‘em
You pop ‘em cause we pop ‘em like Orville Redenbacher

Motherfuc*** I’m ill

A million here, a million there
Sicilian bitch with long hair, with coke in her derriere
Like smoke in the thinnest air
I open the Lamborghini
Hopin’ them crackers see me like, “look at that bastard Weezy
He’s a beast he’s a dog, he’s a motherfuckin’ problem”
Okay you’re a goon, but what’s a goon to a goblin
Nothin’, nothin’, you ain’t scarin’ nothin’
On some faggot bullshit
Call him Dennis Rodman
Call me what you want bitch
Call me on my Sidekick
Never answer when it’s private
Damn I hate a shy bitch
Don’t you hate a shy bitch?
Yeah I ate a shy bitch
She ain’t shy no more, she changed her name to my bitch
Yeah nigga, that’s my bitch
So when she ask for the money when you through don’t be surprised, bitch
It ain’t trickin’ if you got it
But you like a bitch with no ass, you ain’t got shit
Motherfuc*** I’m ill, not sick
And I’m o.k., but my watch sick
Yeah my drop sick
Yeah my glock sick
Am I not thick?
I’m it
Motherfuc*** I’m ill

See, they say I’m rappin’ like B.I.G., Jay, and Tupac,
Andre 3000—where is Erykah Badu at?
Who that? Who that said they gon’ beat Lil Wayne
My name ain’t Bic, but I keep That flame
Now who that wanna do that, boy you knew that chew that swallow
And I be the shit, now you got loose bowels
I don’t owe you like two vowels
But I would like for you to pay me by the hour
And I’d rather be pushin’ flowers
Than to be in the pen sharin’ showers
Tony told us this world was ours
And the Bible told us every girl was sour
Don’t play in her garden, and don’t smell her flower
Call me Mr. Carter or Mr. Lawnmower
Boy I got so many bitches like I’m Mike Lowery
Even Gwen Stefani say she couldn’t doubt me
Motherfuc*** I say life ain’t shit without me
Chrome lips pokin’ out, the coupe look like it’s poutin’
I do what I do and you do what you can do about it
Bitch, I will turn a crack rock into a mountain
Dare me
Don’t you compare me cause there ain’t nobody near me
They don’t see me, but they hear me
They don’t feel me, but they fear me

I’m illie