Fuck Da Bullshit
Nicki Minaj, Birdman, Lil Wayne, Young Money, Drake, Gudda Gudda
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Yeah cut it up, gimme a light Yeah, and by the way, nigga it's Young Mula First Lady ugh, yo, yo Let us begin with a bad lil' specimen Balenciagas, only things I be steppin in Pucci bathing suit's Only thing I'm dressing in 'Cause I get wetter than a navy seal veteran Got Got 'em writin love Letters in they jour-n-al Keep 'em on they toes like A midget at the urinal Bad Bad Bad-Bad Bad Bad as I wanna be She ain't bad, she a sad little wannabe Yeah f*ck the bullshit it's big Money popping young Mula! yeah Just like that what up, young Nigga? Let's go gudda, brrrat! Okay, we running this shit When we walk in the building Got bitches from wall to wall Hoes hangin from the ceiling Young Money we 'bout to kill 'em I promise I make a million And if they didn't have no hands I'll Bet them bitches gon' feel 'em I'm talkin money and power you Getting money? I doubt it Fresher than baby powder With your bitch in the shower that pussy I'ma devour I beat it up 'til it's sour No need for you to even trip bitch I'll be done in a hour, let's go Yeah yeah, that's more like it Junior! They say the blacker the berry The redder the cherry I say the sweeter it is you dig? Buried Then the bullshit varies, and it got me wary But I know two are the same Call it "murdered" and "married" (Believe that) Hustling is so necessary, with no adversaries But ain't no love Like a calendar with no Februarys I'ma need four secretary And four Bloody Marys I'ma go eat me some pussy And choke off the cherry I'm gone Yeah, fully loaded with it To the ceiling with it More money than you ever seen, nigga! Aight, Drizzy, Drake Look, kill the game No one recovers the murder weapon Young Angel If you hate me tell me burn in heaven (Brrrrat) how'd ya sleep on me? The highest earnin freshmen Like your third infection I hope you learned your lesson (yeah) Yeah, I spit raw, but I prefer protection I own a heart and a mind And a shirt she slept in Bitch, I got the answer And still ain't heard the question I shut your club down Please reserve my section F*ck a confrontation There ain't no cake in it And I'm caking, bitch So tell me why I'd take a break from it The mother of your child always Tell you I'm her favorite She call me her baby not the One she was in labor with She say, "Ooh, you taste good, " I say, "Ooh Just savor it" She know that she love a nigga I be on that major shit 'Cause I get paid to stand And I get paid to sit So I don't walk around with money Baby girl I'm made of it
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Written by: WARREN FELDER, ANDREW WANSEL
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Fuck Da Bullshit Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 16 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/10789233/Birdman/Fuck+Da+Bullshit>.
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