Lyrics:

No ceilings...
O o ok, I got this chrome on this bugatti
I'm strong in this bugatti
2 v8s ain't no such thing as driving calm in this bugatti
Bitch I'm bad
I'm worse
I'll pass the purp
Don't f-ck with me cause right now I'm higher than Captain Kirk
I swear I be the sickest n-gga, u can ask the nurse
And if you throw it in the bag, I bet I'll snatch her purse
Ok I spazz, I curse
U last, I'm first
I'm on your ass like dirt
Behind that cash, get murk
I'm talkin' big sh-t n-gga, join my hit list n-gga
What's the matter? check your bladder I'm the sh-t piss n-gga
Shoot the witness, n-gga
Whole court in the streets
And convict this n-gga
Oh d-ckless n-gga
Man I'm runnin' with the blucka
Young money muthaf-cka
U bet we gon do our thing
Well ain't it sunny in the summer
And we coming for the comers
And whoever among us
And you know I'm a bust my ass until my crew very humongous
I said T.I hold ya head
And Mack hold ya head
Wish I could but I can't say some other names cause of the feds
And to my bloods, cold red
Man you know how we plead
And if it cost to be the boss, oh well I guess I gotta pay
I'm a New Orleans n-gga, I don't take no sh-t
Take the brain off the whip now it don't make no sense
Stunt hard on these b-tches I ain't promise tomorrow
Now when they kicking it with me like nomar garciaparra
Flute rollin' killin' plants, they lil tune shop of horror?
And we roll them b-tches thick, make them look like tacara?
Man I'm to much for these n-ggas, and three much for these hoes
The World is in my hands, and I keep my hands closed
I love my baby mommas, they get my highest honor
Gotta take care of them kids, man I know ya heard Obama
And I love motor island, Atlantic in my backyard
I just tell my pilot to land it in my backyard
Quarter back shot gun, you don't get any sack yards
B-tch I ball hard, breakin all the back boards
Pretty boy Floyd step up I will crack yours
And even at the White House we pull up at the back doors
Walk around like I'm thirty feet tall
Tiger Woods all these hoes tryna birdy these balls
And the Porche 911 like emergency calls
Man I just be chillin', I'm cool like lou rawlas
Young money in the building, I'm puttin' up new walls
N-gga take your Mrs Officer and set some new laws
My flow is like rubbin two logs
Young mula we the new sh-t and new drawers
Now get off my d-ck, I ain't f-cking with cha
Watch me shoot to the bank, I'm a money pistol
Weezy beat the beat up like Sonny Liston
Red bone do me good then her friend, her sister
I mean her bitch, she never met her best friends a sister
I leave her p-ssy microsoft like windows vista
Young tunechi, pop that cucci for a goon hoe
Bullet in you boys memory, now you act like you don't know
East side who I do it for, eagle street right by the store
Katrina wiped the city out but could'ntf-ck with holly grove
Lost some real niggas I knew from a long time ago
But heaven or hell I hope in that debut where I'm a go
Take a nigga gal and make her come give me a private show
Still long hair, don't care, like a navajo
I'm the hardest sh-t go in your ass and search
I smash this verse, and I swag and surf
No ceilings