Birdman

21sep/120

Juvenile Ft. Lil Wayne & Birdman – Picture Perfect

Visitas del post: 1.269

Letra de Picture Perfect de Juvenile Ft. Lil Wayne & Birdman

Juvenile, I'm throwback
Like '80 something, I go back
Them brown bags, I sold that
Them street corners, I know that
Appetite, I'm so hungry
Democrat, I go donkey
Weed head, I'm junkey
White boy, I smoke honkeys
From Letra-Lyrics.com
Nig*as like, "What Juvie on?"
"He's wildin' out, he's straight trippin'"
Ya'll nig*as is straight pussy
And ya'll are about to be rape victims
Boy im fu*king with truckloads
Started off from an eight ball
Like airplanes on a runway
A real nig*a goin' take off
I'm the reason my street hot
Still stick to my G-code
Tees, Bo's and my Reeboks
And I'm cheesed up; I've got cheetos
I told ya'll I'll quit beefin'
From Letra-Lyrics.com
I'm chillin dawg, I'm on rehab
My lawyer told me my record clean
And if ya'll fuck with me I might relapse
Like Noriega got a lot of guns, like Las Vegas I'm pimpin
Laws keepin' their distance, ain't no penetratin' my system
Bad boy and I puff it
HotBoy, get stuffy
My main bit*h got a black card
And she'll spend it all cause she love me
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Bit*h I'm picture perfect
I paint a perfect picture
I'm spoonin' with your bit*h and make you do the dirty dishes
Man I hate the thirsty bit*hes
Cut them off like circumcision
From Letra-Lyrics.com
I'm the type to talk sh*t and it'd be words of wisdom
Bit*h I'm picture perfect
I paint a perfect picture
I'm spoonin' with your bit*h and make you do the dirty dishes
Man I hate the thirsty bit*hes
Cut them off like circumcision
I'm the type to talk sh*t and it'd be words of wisdom
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Monster, killa, real nig*a hustla on the reala
My nig*a- a dope dealer, dealer
Hustler, shinin'
A Big Tymer nig*a
From Letra-Lyrics.com
So high on my grind I'll be high flyin nig*a
With my strapped up, my guns tight
These nig*as know I get money
Come from Uptown nig*a
Where a killin' take just a few hundreds
From Letra-Lyrics.com
Blast, past
Smokin on that pound
Shinin with my round when my nig*a touched down
100 keys on his feet shinin on them 23's
Blowin o's, fuckin hoes
Watch me throw another G
Strapped in this field nig*a
Me and my lil' young nig*a
Ridin' around your town nig*a
Gettin' nothin' but money nig*a
One hunnid!
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Bit*h I'm picture perfect
I paint a perfect picture
I'm spoonin' with your bit*h and make you do the dirty dishes
Man I hate the thirsty bit*hes
From Letra-Lyrics.com
Cut them off like circumcision
I'm the type to talk sh*t and it'd be words of wisdom
Bit*h I'm picture perfect
I paint a perfect picture
I'm spoonin' with your bit*h and make you do the dirty dishes
Man I hate the thirsty bit*hes
Cut them off like circumcision
I'm the type to talk sh*t and it'd be words of wisdom
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Uh, tried to fuck the world, can't fit
Pockets fat as Saint Nick
All I've got is my nig*as
From Letra-Lyrics.com
Cause a bit*h still ain't sh*t
And I've got kush all in my swisher
These nig*as is tissue
I don't believe these nig*as
Cause I don't believe in superstitions
Juvie, I gotcha
Dreads like rasta, hair like pasta, I go meatballs
I get up in that ass and hit it as fast as Chinese ping-pong
And my bit*h, she got that fire
From Letra-Lyrics.com
My homie got that iron
But I tell 'em put it away or you could get punched like a Hawaiian
Bit*h it's Tunechi F Baby
I'm a original HotBoy
My dick feel like a prisoner cause this bit*h got lockjaw
I'm so feelin my self
From Letra-Lyrics.com
Truk everybody else
My redbone is ice cold, I'mma fuck the bit*h till she melts
Uhh
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Bit*h I'm picture perfect
I paint a perfect picture
I'm spoonin' with your bit*h and make you do the dirty dishes
Man I hate the thirsty bit*hes
Cut them off like circumcision
I'm the type to talk sh*t and it'd be words of wisdom
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Bit*h I'm N-O till I G-O
I can't change if I tried
I look to my left, I look to my right
And time ain't on my side
So that's why I like my blunt fat and outta shape
From Letra-Lyrics.com
Money on my mind
Pussy on my face
Tunechi!
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Bit*h I'm picture perfect
I paint a perfect picture
I'm spoonin' with your bit*h and make you do the dirty dishes
Man I hate the thirsty bit*hes
Cut them off like circumcision
From Letra-Lyrics.com
I'm the type to talk sh*t and it'd be words of wisdom
Bit*h I'm picture perfect
I paint a perfect picture
From Letra-Lyrics.com
I'm spoonin' with your bit*h and make you do the dirty dishes
Man I hate the thirsty bit*hes
Cut them off like circumcision
I'm the type to talk sh*t and it'd be words of wisdom.
Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: Birdman, Juvenile, Letra, Lil Wayne, Lyrics, Picture Perfect No hay comentarios

21sep/120

Juvenile Ft. Lil Wayne & Birdman – Picture Perfect (Traducida)

Visitas del post: 789

Letra en español de Picture Perfect de Juvenile Ft. Lil Wayne & Birdman

Original

Bit*h I'm picture perfect
I paint a perfect picture
I'm spoonin' with your bit*h and make you do the dirty dishes
Man I hate the thirsty bit*hes
Cut them off like circumcision
From Letra-Lyrics.com
I'm the type to talk sh*t and it'd be words of wisdom
Bit*h I'm picture perfect
I paint a perfect picture
From Letra-Lyrics.com
I'm spoonin' with your bit*h and make you do the dirty dishes
Man I hate the thirsty bit*hes
Cut them off like circumcision
I'm the type to talk sh*t and it'd be words of wisdom.
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Traducción
...

Etiquetado con: Birdman, Español, Juvenile, Letra, Lil Wayne, Lyrics, Picture Perfect, Traduccion, Traducida Continúa leyendo

28may/120

Birdman Ft. Rick Ross – Born Stunna

Visitas del post: 3.661

Letra de Born Stunna de Birdman y Rick Ross

Born stunna
(mmmmaybach music)
I’m a born stunna
(mmmmaybach music)
Huh, born stunna
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Money money money money money bags
Money money money bags
Money money money bags
Money money money bags
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Born stunna, born stunna
Flip a hundred keys just to ball all summer
Born stunna, born stunna
I put a hundred karats in the cartier mama
Born stunna, she’s a born stunna
Mercedes coup for the missus if she’s a born stunna
Born stunna, born stunna
Stack a hundred mill and another hundred comin’
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Born stuntin’, rap huntin’
Flock a hundred of them things for them cheat numbus
Ride numbus, head huntin’
Hit the mall with my bit*h and blow another hunid
Red flaggin’, poppin’ red bottles
I’m talkin’ big faces, money and the power
Sway linin’, with my man in it
Birdman, bit*h and I’ve been kickin’
Yea, so my baby want a new wheel
Pearl white, stay fresh on that new sh*t
You dig? Born hustlin’ on that money sh*t
Ya feel? Blowin’ mills, big jewels bit*h
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Money money money money money bags
Money money money bags
Money money money bags
Money money money bags
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Yea, a lot a lot of money bags
The money in the garbage can
Strapped up tight with a hundred bags
Money filthy bit*h, we in the money lair
See, we shinin’ like the money can
Since the money came, bit*h we throw the money fan
Yea, ymcmg
Loto jacked in the hustle since I hit the streets
2-50 on the new piece
New condo, 20.000 square feet
Ballin’, uptown suicide
Born stuntin’, strapped how we livin’ fine
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Money money money money money bags
Money money money bags
Money money money bags
Money money money bags

Cash money, money stacks
Been grindin’ since the lineage with that cromag
Fifty whip sittin’ right in front of that
Ocean view, top floor, blew a hundred racks
G5’in with them chandeliers
Checker floors, tattoo tears
Uptown nig*a on the battle field
Maybach relaxin’ on them cop heels
Candy coated, a Harley Davis
Stuntin’ on them nig*as like the old baby
Bad bit*h, matchin’ Gucci bikes
My sun lit, we live a high life
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Money money money money money bags
Money money money bags
Money money money bags
Money money money bags.
Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: Birdman, Born Stunna, Letra, Lyrics, Rick Ross No hay comentarios

22may/120

Birdman Ft. Lil Wayne & Mack Maine – Dark Shades

Visitas del post: 1.237

Letra de Dark Shades de Birdman, Lil Wayne y Mack Maine

Ymcmb
I’m so twisted
Mack!

Dark, dark shades I can see them haters
Don’t forget to tip the waiter
I don’t drink champagne, it make my stomach hurt
I’m on that patron, marijuana get
Dollars, dollars, that go pu, that go dollars, that go pu
Got a mean ass swagger, my bitc*es do too

Yeah, back in this, tell ‘em about it
These sweet niggers, a bunch brownies
You’re talking about, I’m a g like a thousand
I’m on my one two, and I’m still counting
You got problems, well I got bigger problems
My soul back, make me bring, make me bring the
You don’t want that, homie
Plus I got that you won’t see tomorrow morning

Be so, be so old, young money, money old
Life is full of choices and you chose
I’m so to groove, the
And if I paint the picture
You know what I’m on, good and strong
You know where I’m going, I’m going, going, gone!
Holler at your boy, I don’t give a, give a
Gotta tell these make me shut you

Just a third world gangsta, been filthy
Hustler I’m on, keep banking
Big mansions on the
Popping shots out the bottle
Spending cause we’re winning
Five star, money, power!
Man, hood rich
Build on some bad boy rich
Chandelier, marble full of
Out with ‘em dogs for the
Throwing hundreds in the club
Bouncing on the shine
Head ride, green light, spend them at the green light
Flash light, fast life, for a cheap price
Uh, uptown swaging life, living like we live it twice

Yeah, down from New Orleans, rest in peace like
And I come from it’s a Safari
I go retarded; the grass is green back in my garden
Pop, pop we’re arguing
Leave her leaking, if you’re scared, go see the
Got a bunch of to tell me all of their secrets
And if I get in that walls like graffiti
I’m on my vampire, bloody red
Call it dead cash
And it’s party time, excellent
Party time, excellent

Etiquetado con: Birdman, Dark Shades, Letra, Lil Wayne, Lyrics, Mack Maine No hay comentarios

20may/120

Birdman & Mack Maine Ft. Kendrick Lamar, Ace Hood – B Boyz

Visitas del post: 4.477

Letra de B Boyz de Birdman, Mack Maine, Kendrick Lamar y Ace Hood

Talk about it, make em talk about it
Life to me is currency, prosperity I got it
And your life to me is lifeless like its living' on life support
I license everything in my wallet, lightest boy with the biggest heart
Nig*a play your part or parallel park your ego next to me and violence
Next to me is definitely no one, I’m one of one
And I musta won that from anybody who had it or better yet forgot it
Mack in the back of a 'lac with a mac in the back of a 'lac
With a latch on the back of the trunk
Hit a punk in the back with a pump in the back, till he's off balance
And I’m back in the front of the front of the future when you are mentioning talent
And I’m in the back in the back of the block with a cop wanna cop anybody's allowance
Iraq on the block key watch for the block or whatever
And cut no cut more guns more guts fu*k boy you fu*ked up twice you fu*ked considerin' you drownin'
Die in a lake with a date with a catfish back flip head first smilin'
C-cry in the face of jesus we just pray we keep on stylin'
On you bit*hes tde ymcmb business bit*h

Okay nig*a riding in a may-be, and I’m probably with baby
Dont talk nig*a fu*k you pay me, intercept your bit*h like bailey
Okay big money on this side, 100 grand for the whip my bit*h drive
Need a new safe money getting too high, dead presidents all in my levis
Boy I swear this nig*a be swagging, and I’m living lavish
Might cop me an aston, martin on 'em
Anything I drive I own 'em, bad bit*h and that ass ain't normal
Gotta put that pound game on her, beat it up she deep in a coma
I'm super paid, 2 shows a day
My rollie gold, no time to waste
What it do berg, my fu*kin' brother
Keep that pistol by me like my lovely momma
Hot as the summer, cold as the winter
Stay on them charts, I heard that they plotting my timber
Young nig*a, got a lot of flows
Any nig*a don't believe me, I make it look easy easy out of control

Box full of choppers, hand on the trigger
Uptown gangsta, get it how we get it
Third ward soldier, suicide rider
Militant minded, hundred mill on the counter
Hand pearly rug nig*a, flame on the bugatti
Christian louboutin, chanel for my models
Higher than bugatti nig*a, fishing on the fish scales
Nose diving for them hundreds, strapped up making mail
Fr-fresher than I been before
Higher than we even been, shining on them 24’s
Junior doing time ho
On the grind ho, while he doing time ho

Ya know!
The time is money and money still was made baby
Eight months ain’t stop nothing nig*a
It’s like jail was third base and my lil’ nig*a still came home, ya understand

I’m from the hood where bit*hes hold coke in they baby diapers
That’s why when the babies grow up damn they be like us
I came a long ways from rhyming up in crazy cyphers
Man I’m so happy my lil’ brother came home from rikers
Shout out to bp, thugga, flow and fail boy?
My flow lucifer, I spit hell boy
My heart numb, ain’t no pain I can’t withstand
And I hold my nig*as down boy like a kickstand
Get off my nuts, stop acting like a bit*h fam
Lil’ nig*a finish puberty, grow ya own dick damn
I went from watching time fly on earl and red porch
To cruising through the streets of miami in a red porsche
Me and stunna fly, we should join the air force
Stand up nig*as, the fu*k you brought them chairs for?
I went from making money from people with crack habits
To thanking god I’m in a whole ‘nother tax bracket
Amen.

Etiquetado con: Ace Hood, B Boyz, Birdman, Kendrick Lamar, Letra, Lyrics, Mack Maine No hay comentarios

15dic/110

Mystikal Ft. Birdman & Lil Wayne – Original

Visitas del post: 1.006

Letra de Original de Mystikal, Birdman y Lil Wayne

Im a political refugee
Thats how the f*ck I felt

Birds for the summer
Hummers for the runners
Candy on the paint
9 for the thunder
Throw a couple hundreds
Fishing on a fishtail
With big money, cash money oilwell
High roller, shot caller, big boss
Original, real nig*a from the start
Head huntin’, price on a nig*a tab
Hit ‘em up, for playing with a f*cking male

Say I’m better than Beethoven
To the beat that I rap over
Stay outta that medicine cabinet
Yeah, thats what they told me
Giving us test, cause we stay rollin’
And know a nig*a act better than a .45 caliber pistol when they loading
They penalize us, tryna slow us down
They constantly f*cking us up
Thats why we’re buck wild
Call me porch monkey, call me jigaboo
When you know you wanna f*ck my woman and eat my barbeque
How the f*ck you gon’ watch my house
But don’t wanna live on my street
The ape man told Tarzan “how the f*ck you better than me?”
Rap I run that rock, and got a jump shot
Who we got ? wife, up in that white house
I took a look and didn’t sell out
I was in the ? and didn’t bail out
Hoping the, didn’t fail out
Back to the top from the jail house
Lace ‘em up, tie ya shoe
Catch a cut, know what pressure do

Who out c’here f*cking with me, huh? tell me that
I’m bout to drop that ?, where my pamper at?
Try to answer that, or give me my mantle back
I bury you cockroaches, shoulda left where I was at
You dun made that f*cking bed
You dun built this f*cking house
? Yeah nig*a what the hell
Talking baby business, yeah
Don’t be f*cking with me
Cause you wont get off easy
I feel just like Drew Brees
When they kick off football season
How I cut the ref, you can’t stop from bleeding
Rappers betta leave me ‘lone
if they gon’ keep on breathing
Now keep on starving and I’mma gonna keep on eating
And you keep on sucking, and I’mma keep on squeezing
You gon be the one bussing or be the one fleeing
You better keep on trucking
Aint nobody betta ? this evening

Uh, aint it crazy how sh*t be
Thats why I flush it
I got the Tommy gun with the drum
Thats percussion
I just popped a couple pain pills, self destruction
I made something out of nothing, thanks for nothing
I pistol whip you pussies, knock her out Robitussin
Ran up in your house, killed everybody, no discussion
Rep, that muthaf-cking red flag like a Russian
Yeah, look, I told her baby I’m a thrasher
We kissed, I lit her ass up than I ashed her
No hard feelings, no car dealing, but I shuffle my queen
Duffle bag too heavy to carry to the car
My Mary in a jar
I’m food, I let the haters add a little salt
Thats cool, I do it for all the nig*as that try
And all the bi*ches I’ve f*cked, and all my nig*as that died
Tunechi

Etiquetado con: Birdman, Letra, Lil Wayne, Lyrics, Mystikal, Original No hay comentarios

2dic/110

Drake Ft. Birdman – We’ll Be Fine

Visitas del post: 390

Letra de We'll Be Fine de Drake y Birdman

Yeah, never thoughts of suicide I’m too alive
But I still treat it likes it’s do or die
Even though dying isn’t in the plans
But neither was making it and here I am
In the presidential do you like your new room?
Always presidential and tonight’s no blue moon
Since I saw Aaliyah’s precious life go too soon
She deserve the credit for how I’m about to get it
That’s why I got a new dumb thing moving through the street
Got a new condo, move it to the beach
Heard Nicki just bought a brand new crib, goddamn, man, she’s beauty and the beast (Lord)
Seems like yesterday that I was up and coming
Still so young that I ain’t had enough of nothing
The fam here, the drink here
The girls here?
Well fuck let’s get it then

I’m trying to let go of the past
Should we make this one a double, you ain’t even gotta ask, Ahh
Because it’s hard to say no, say no
Yeah it’s hard to say no
Are you down, are you down? Yeah, you all the way down, everytime
Am I down, am I down? Yeah, I’m all the way down, We’ll be fine
Are you down, are you down? Yeah, you all the way down, everytime
Am I down, am I down? Yeah, I’m all the way down, We’ll be fine

Used to make us proud we had dreams of getting bigger, man
Loved you until now, but now I’m the nigga, man
You keep talking that, “You was this and you had this”
And you deserve some fucking credit how did anyone forget it
Got a show up in your city, yo girl is in the line
And the line around the corner, it’s my motherfucking time
You should take it as a sign, man I got it right now
I wouldn’t doubt it cause these bitches all about it right now
Let’s be real about this sh*t, can I take you home?
Or come to where you stay? Do you live on your own?
I heard you got your ways, I never would have known
She said, “you’re such a dog”, I said, “you’re such a bone.”
I’ve been everywhere, where you know me from?
These days women give it to me like they owe me one
But they crave attention though they always saying, “show me some”
But girl you ain’t the only one that’s trying to be the only one
At least I admit that, if you get that, and you with that
Then fuck let’s get it then

Yeah! Drizzy, yo turn nigga!
Take Care of the business nigga (shine on these niggas)
Give these niggas the business nigga!
Kill spray anything in the way, nigga, f*ck em, we don’t love em!
Yeah, it’s just that Uptown gangsta sh*t
Toronto, stand up for one of the realest Niggas
Drizzy, with the realest flow, y’know?
Toast to this gangsta sh*t, fellas
OVO YMCMB (believe that!)
Yeah, you understand me?
Playing with these motherfucking millions like they ain’t nothing
Throwin’ hundreds, rubber band stacks
That YMCMB sh*t nigga; flashy lifestyle
One hundred.

Etiquetado con: Birdman, Drake, Letra, Lyrics, We'll Be Fine No hay comentarios

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