Top Back Lyrics
T.I. dot com bitch,
TIP f**k wit ya boi, hey that is my brotha ladies and gentleman T.I.
And he is the king bitch, don't get that shit twisted,
And me, I am the best rapper alive ladies and gentleman, hello!
This is the drought 3 and it's been a minute since I rapped on a Manny Fresh beat,
But uh, I guess I'll go ahead and show these niggas what to do with one of the beats man
I like my seat down low and my window slightly cracked, ridin wit a bad hoe with her girlfriend in tha back, i like to get real high and i never look back and you don't wanna try me and don't i look strapped? I come from tha hardest city, ain't nobody f**kin wit it, i got black and gold soul wit a fresh New Orleans fitted, and a collared polo and a pair of balli bucks, Young Money motherf**ka, i know you worry about us, Cash Money motherf**ker, CMR i trust, never had my jaw brokin but his jaw i'll bust, and i probably got your girlfriend on my bus, what happens on my bus stays on my bus, and that white widow weed out the jar is a must, if you give me a cigar then a cigar i'll bust, put that white widow weed in the cigar and puff, look ma i'm tryin to make a porno starring us, well not just us, a couple foreign sluts, yea we make this a manage twain, ya'll in? i be with Jim Jones and we be ballin ballin, yea baby we ballin like Rawlins and Spalding, pint of DJ screw and that Hawaiian, i am leaning like 3 legged lion, climbing right to the top of the motherf**kin mountain, counting, i'm gonna need me an accountant to count it, Manny got this f**kin beat pounding it's pounding, but it was just lost until i found it, i found it, stole it like a scoundrel, holly grove hound it, put this bitch to sleep, f**king right i night-gowned it,nigga's talkin cheap, tell them niggas pipe down bitch, bloods in the building, now everybody soundless,beatin up this track like a motherf**kin round-fist, blind deaf or crazy, i'mma spit like a long kiss, i'm just a martian ain't nobody else on this planet, i know, see i live by my only, say where my cheese nigga? where my macaroni?, baby i get up in da ass and act a donkey, candy armed candy nigga grippin the grain, see i'm the only fire that can live in the rain, i am so so New Orleans, like 1825 Tulane
Ha ha ha, see you gotta be New Orleans to know what I'm talkin bout, and if you don't...f**k you
Say what I want, and I don't want nothin cuz I got everything, bitch.
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Songwriter(s): Fabian Marasciullo, Dwayne Carter, Fabio Marascuillo, Victor Wilson, Christian Stainecker, Jamie Alexander Lidderdale, Dwayne, Jamie Lidell
Publisher(s): Money Mack Music Inc., Young Money Publishing Inc., Sivad Soul, Warp Music Ltd., Emi April Music Inc., Warner-tamerlane Publishing Corp.,
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