lirik lagu birdman lil wayne – brown paper bag
(feat. swizz beatz)
all brown paper bag (uh-oh)
all brown paper bag (uh-oh)
all brown all brown – fi-fi-fill (haha) it up wit’ more
[hook: lil wayne]
all brown paper bag -fill it up wit’ ones (like father, like son b–tch!)
all brown paper bag – fill it up wit’ ones (angel on the beat)
fill it – fill it up wit’ ones (i tell ’em i tell ’em)
[verse 1: lil wayne]
i got that paper bag full of paper
bag full of kush
big choppa i can hit you from a hundred foots
wha’s happenin’ wardy?
how you on it buddy?
dem b-tches checkin’ for me
tell ’em i’m wit’ swizz swizzy
they call me wizzy fizzy
holla back right now i’m busy
i am the president
you jus’ play your position
and i hope that door don’t hit ya
get up outta my office crawfish
don’t let them sharkys get ya
this beat’s a car collision
check out my car collection
yea look at my rims hoe
mercades wit’ them kidneys
naw that’s a benzo
i don’t pop them pills no
but i pop them rubber bands
man i can get like fifty thousand in that brown bag
[hook x3]
[verse 2: birdman]
yea, n-gg-
cook a whole, make it out a whole and a half b-tch!
yea, birdman in a benz wit’ the duffel stuffed
gotta chopper wit’ a drum and one iced up
them people hot around my way but we don’t give a f-ck
we on the grind for the shine tryna come up
a black mack, black six, and a black hummer
them thirteen hundreds fourteen hundreds
we be gettin’ money
drop it off, get to work n-gg- keep it runnin’
garbage bag full of cash n-gg- keep it comin’
in my hood red phantom n-gg- we be stuntin’
got the block blocked off n-gg- we be hustlin’
brown duffel bag filled up wit’ cash
sixteen years old wit’ a brand new jag b-tch!
[hook x2]
[verse 3: swizz beats]
get it up
in the air
get it up
in the air
n-n-n-now money cars clothes hoes
all a n-gg- know so
i’m from the ghetto so
gimmie my pesos
all brown paper bag
i could fill it up wit’ ones
n-gg- fill it up wit’ ones
hey fill it up wit’ ones
?????? dancer dancer dancer
hey hey stuff it in the thang dog
d-mn right i be poppin’ my collar
in a all black impala
makin’ fiends wanna holla
got the suade on my headrest
gold on my d-mn bracelet
hey triple gold n-gg-
sucka i ain’t ridin’ thin
you want me come and get me
i’m in 360 (ferrari man)
ca$h money’s wit’ me!
[hook: x3]
like father, like son (repeat to fade)
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