Birdman & Lil Wayne - Brown Paper Bag Lyrics

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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 biatch!)
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
Mercedes 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*gga
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*gga keep it runnin'
Garbage bag full of cash n*gga keep it comin'
In my hood Red Phantom n*gga we be stuntin'
Got the block blocked off n*gga 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*gga know so
I'm from the ghetto so
Gimmie my pesos
All brown paper bag
I could fill it up wit' ones
N*gga fill it up wit' ones
Hey fill it up wit' ones
(?) Dancer Dancer Dancer
Hey hey stuff it in the thang dog
Damn right I be poppin' my collar
In a all black Impala
Makin' fiends wanna holla
Got the suade on my headrest
Gold on my damn bracelet
Hey triple gold n*gga
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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