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(Young Cash - Intro) Young Cash Brick Squad! We started this brick shit nigga! (Chorus) All I do is win, win, win, no matter what Young niggas from the hood and we don't give a fuck And every time we hop out wit' them choppas Everybody hands go up, and they stay there They better stay there, they better stay there Lay down, lay down, lay down 'Cause all I do is win, win, win It started in the hood so that's where it begins Let 'em stay there (Young Cash) I got so much swag, I stick out like a shark's fin You swimmin' in my water, I'm 'bout to let them sharks in Real niggas in my circle, and I don't let no marks in I preach to the streets, call me the young Al Sharpton I know what coke I need, hit the streets with my nig' I rob ya for ya bricks, I don't give a fuck like F.E.M.A. Me and Hin off in the Beamer, that 745 Brick Squad right behind, they got seven .45's (Yo Gotti) All I do is win, I'm Gotti the brawn G I'm the M.V.P., I got championship chains Triple double on these niggas Ten blocks and twelve steals Fifteen a six, tell me that I ain't real Other words that's ten birds, and I jack a nigga for twelve Get bread wit' my homeboys 'cause I'm a team player Like the A-Team, nigga this the Yay Team, big work nigga They should wear it on my flat screen (Gudda Gudda) Okay, all I do is win, no need for another option Fly like the wind, they nicknamed me helipcopter I don't sip gin, my cup fulla that purple shit All real niggas 'round me, no Urkel shit I ain't tryna talk, if it ain't money what's the purpose? If it don't make dollars and cents, it ain't worth it bitch Alotta clowns in this rap game on that circus shit While I proceed to win and shake the game like (?) It's Gudda (Chorus) (Bun B) We up in Harlem on some rock Diddy poppin' in my Sean John Tryna send these young kings home like they Bron Bron I rep this arm strong, cold, get your long John Whip game proper, I got that off white (?) Fourth quarter, fourth down, four seconds on the clock Mothafuck a huddle nigga, just give me the fuckin' rock Goin' up the middle, and I don't need a fuckin' block Touchdown, the South win, bitch get off the fuckin' jock (Iceberg) Iceberg nigga! And if you don't know me you can call me Billion That 'Maro on them four Gaidos And I don't got them Asanti's spinnin' I specialize in packin' dro in grey clutches And when it come to hoe niggas, I be face thumpin' And in Dade County we flop niggas with dummy bricks And quick to cop them real chickens wit' that counterfeit And if we don't know ya we touch ya If you buck we bustin' Then throw it up in the club for the fuck of it It's 'Berg (Tity Boi) Yeah, it's Tity Boi, they call me 2 Chainz If I die, bury me inside this blue flame You know what it is, Louis on my shoestrings I make ya girl get loose for the loose change Chandelier on my neck, black and white like a panda bear This is not a 911, this a Panamera Everybody starin', tryna see what I'm wearin' From the era, where M.O.B. mean money only better (Chorus) (T-Pain) Okay, Pizzle! Ehem Ladies and gentleman, the South is in the fuckin' spot It ain't no sleepin' on me dawg, I ain't a fuckin' cot I'm rude to every bitch, hoe is you gon' fuck or not? Especially white whores, yeah, gargle this fuckin' cock They say, "Pain why you ain't on the first "All I Do Is Win"? And I say, "I am stupid, I'm just here to get paid again." I went and got the Field Mob niggas and made 'em friends And I Fleetwood Mac and Chevy P you may begin (Chevy P) What up dum-dum? Ya better run um Comin' wit' my hundred round drum for the trunk punk Quit runnin', go fast, like the runna done Put holes through yo' Hilfiger, wit' my Tommy gun So jack and be nimble, and jack and be quick Or I'ma light yo' ass up like a candle stick Like Erv Gotti, I'm ridin' on Asanti's, now that I'm on Chevy sit so high I can give E.T. a ride home (Chorus) |