Who dat, talkin’ bout, who dat? Run up on me, you’ll get your ass beat blue black Go on get nerve, I’m off the curb Push mountains of herb, you *************s already heard The bro Berg keep a pistol gripped pump on his lap at all times Wherever, however, ’cause young *************s they trying See ‘em and be like “huh, *************, what?” “Huh? Give a ************* like what?” Hell yeah, this the remix, these ******** comin’ harder than cement Put the blow to they nose, no Kleenex *************ning like the sun, no Phoenix Diamond Lane gang wear it big, no 3X (free Miller) You ********in’ foolie chucker More *************s still good on the block, Timmy Duncan Knocking *************s out they style like a ********g 50 dumpin' Labels can’t advance me, that Cali ************* that got Diddy dancing (Problem!!)
[Hook: Problem] I'm just doing my thang, fingers in the sky Banging my gang like uh Go on fall back, cause you don't want no problems like that Cause we gonna be like huh, ************* what Huh, give a *************, ************* whaat Huh, ************* what Huh, give a *************, ************* whaat
[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa] What’s smackin 30, under 30 I’m a young rich black man What’s happening No it ain’t Taylor, less' my hands is in Grands I’mma spend, grams put them in Seen that Bombay, ran from the gin Staying low key, still they know me Smoking OG, and I blow it by the O-Z We faded ho please I’m getting stupid high, me and P-R-O-B My J’s super old, Rick Owens, no sleeves We at the after-party, you can bring you own ******** And We gon’ take shots until someone has to drive us home Come from a place where they do tote that chrome Smile on they face, but ain’t nothing a game Stacking that paper, don’t get in their way Or Rat-tat-tat
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Chris Brown] Look, ok it’s OHB so *************, bag bag I got an ounce of that bounce in a Glad bag Molly ********g up my liver, got a bad back And if you trying to ************* with her, I’mma tax that Ass all on the floor, I’m trynna pour it up ************* Lean on my ************* so slow it up ************* And the police trynna pull up on the scene Then they ask you what you seen I ain’t seen *************t A hundred *************s right behind me that’s the drum line All you hear is ‘blat, blat’, hit it one time ************* a punch line, ************* had bread since the lunch line I can put them soldiers on the front line Open season, just ************* give me the reason To bust, and just let it squeeze and My rope-a-**** is the meanest I box you up in the freezer Comatose, paraplegic I’m dodging the misdemeanors Hoping I don’t get subpoenas but I…
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Tyga] Huh? banging out the truck I’m T-Raww, *************, go on let a ************* ************* Huh? ************* you heard what I said Your ************* is a bird, but I don’t give her bread What? Problem pass the ******** These *************s claim they ballin’ Then why they clothes free? These mother********s cheap Like a nose bleed seat You ain’t gotta go to Miami ************* to feel the heat (WOO!) LA, burner to your belly My *************s OGs, keep the burner in the telly Getting head till it ache, that’s a mother********g headache Do this *************t tonight, send it straight to felly felly ************* Why? I’m selling dreams, the money team *************s spend crack but they ain’t got no fiends Got the juice and the cream Wu-Tang, Raheim I’m a mother********g, money machine *************
[Hook]
[Master P] How ya do that there!
[Verse 5: Master P] Probably getting paper But don’t ************* with you broke hoes, *************s, or you haters Maaan D. Howard with the mother********g Lakers I represent the street, No Limit is the label Throw your hoods up, mother******** where you from? We in this ************* deep And it can get dumb *************s in the back mother******** poppin’ bottles Chasing bad ******** and them *************s throwing dollars Louis V down from my head to my toes C-Murder in the pen, and that iron getting swole Never gave a ************* ’bout no *************s wanna hate Keep the chopper in the car, case a ************* wanna play She showed me the ********, I call them ******** Dhali I know she a freak, cause she gone off molly Pu*************ng 160 when I’m riding in the go You ain’t from round here, ************* better walk slow, or get smoked
Who dat, talkin’ bout, who dat? Run up on me, you’ll get your ass beat blue black Go on get nerve, I’m off the curb Push mountains of herb, you *************s already heard The bro Berg keep a pistol gripped pump on his lap at all times Wherever, however, ’cause young *************s they trying See ‘em and be like “huh, *************, what?” “Huh? Give a ************* like what?” Hell yeah, this the remix, these ******** comin’ harder than cement Put the blow to they nose, no Kleenex *************ning like the sun, no Phoenix Diamond Lane gang wear it big, no 3X (free Miller) You ********in’ foolie chucker More *************s still good on the block, Timmy Duncan Knocking *************s out they style like a ********g 50 dumpin' Labels can’t advance me, that Cali ************* that got Diddy dancing (Problem!!)
[Hook: Problem] I'm just doing my thang, fingers in the sky Banging my gang like uh Go on fall back, cause you don't want no problems like that Cause we gonna be like huh, ************* what Huh, give a *************, ************* whaat Huh, ************* what Huh, give a *************, ************* whaat
[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa] What’s smackin 30, under 30 I’m a young rich black man What’s happening No it ain’t Taylor, less' my hands is in Grands I’mma spend, grams put them in Seen that Bombay, ran from the gin Staying low key, still they know me Smoking OG, and I blow it by the O-Z We faded ho please I’m getting stupid high, me and P-R-O-B My J’s super old, Rick Owens, no sleeves We at the after-party, you can bring you own ******** And We gon’ take shots until someone has to drive us home Come from a place where they do tote that chrome Smile on they face, but ain’t nothing a game Stacking that paper, don’t get in their way Or Rat-tat-tat
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Chris Brown] Look, ok it’s OHB so *************, bag bag I got an ounce of that bounce in a Glad bag Molly ********g up my liver, got a bad back And if you trying to ************* with her, I’mma tax that Ass all on the floor, I’m trynna pour it up ************* Lean on my ************* so slow it up ************* And the police trynna pull up on the scene Then they ask you what you seen I ain’t seen *************t A hundred *************s right behind me that’s the drum line All you hear is ‘blat, blat’, hit it one time ************* a punch line, ************* had bread since the lunch line I can put them soldiers on the front line Open season, just ************* give me the reason To bust, and just let it squeeze and My rope-a-**** is the meanest I box you up in the freezer Comatose, paraplegic I’m dodging the misdemeanors Hoping I don’t get subpoenas but I…
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Tyga] Huh? banging out the truck I’m T-Raww, *************, go on let a ************* ************* Huh? ************* you heard what I said Your ************* is a bird, but I don’t give her bread What? Problem pass the ******** These *************s claim they ballin’ Then why they clothes free? These mother********s cheap Like a nose bleed seat You ain’t gotta go to Miami ************* to feel the heat (WOO!) LA, burner to your belly My *************s OGs, keep the burner in the telly Getting head till it ache, that’s a mother********g headache Do this *************t tonight, send it straight to felly felly ************* Why? I’m selling dreams, the money team *************s spend crack but they ain’t got no fiends Got the juice and the cream Wu-Tang, Raheim I’m a mother********g, money machine *************
[Hook]
[Master P] How ya do that there!
[Verse 5: Master P] Probably getting paper But don’t ************* with you broke hoes, *************s, or you haters Maaan D. Howard with the mother********g Lakers I represent the street, No Limit is the label Throw your hoods up, mother******** where you from? We in this ************* deep And it can get dumb *************s in the back mother******** poppin’ bottles Chasing bad ******** and them *************s throwing dollars Louis V down from my head to my toes C-Murder in the pen, and that iron getting swole Never gave a ************* ’bout no *************s wanna hate Keep the chopper in the car, case a ************* wanna play She showed me the ********, I call them ******** Dhali I know she a freak, cause she gone off molly Pu*************ng 160 when I’m riding in the go You ain’t from round here, ************* better walk slow, or get smoked
