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letra de a milli - ripsi winelover

[intro]
bangladesh
young money!
you dig?
mack, i’m going in

[verse 1: ripsi winelover]
i got me some brazilian hair
it flow all the way
to my mothaf-cking back
b-tch this some good hair
and you know i got me a
bbl that can twerk
i-i-i-i make a good milli racks
b-tch while you can’t make any
thats sad to be honest b-tch
now i just stole your man b-tch
he want my trini p-ssy b-tch
not your dry ass, he throw a million
dollars on my ass now i don’t get
why these b-tches hating on me
when i literally made their career
he taste some ice cream out of
my asscrack b-tch, he said it taste good
just like honey b-tch, i know he in love
with a girl from the islands b-tch
we can ride d-ck good hoe
while your dry ass p-ssy can’t ride
[verse 2]
a millionairе, i’m a young money millionaire
tougher than nigеrian hair
my criteria compared to your career just isn’t fair
i’m a venereal disease, like a menstrual bleed
through the pencil, and leak on the sheet of the tablet in my mind
‘cause i don’t write sh-t, ‘cause i ain’t got time
‘cause my seconds, minutes, hours go to the almighty dollar
and the almighty power of that ch-cha-cha-chopper
sister, brother, son, daughter, father; mother-f-ck a copper
got the maserati dancin’ on the bridge, p-ssy poppin’
tell the coppers: “ha-ha-ha-ha
you can’t catch him, you can’t stop him”
i go by them goon rules: if you can’t beat ’em, then you pop ’em
you can’t man ’em, then you mop ’em
you can’t stand ’em, then you drop ’em
you pop ’em ‘cause we pop ’em like orville redenbacher

[chorus]
motherf-cker, i’m ill

[verse 3]
a million here, a million there
sicilian b-tch with long hair, with coke in her derriere
like smoking the thinnest air
i open the lamborghini, hopin’ them crackers see me
like, “look at that b-st-rd weezy!”
he’s a beast, he’s a dog, he’s a mothaf-ckin’ problem
okay, you’re a goon, but what’s a goon to a goblin?
nothin’, nothin’, you ain’t scarin’ nothin’
on some f-ggot bullsh-t: call ’em dennis rodman
call me what you want, b-tch! call me on my sidekick!
never answer when it’s private, d-mn, i hate a shy b-tch
don’t you hate a shy b-tch? yeah, i ate a shy b-tch
she ain’t shy no more, she changed her name to my b-tch
yeah, n-gga, that’s my b-tch, so when she ask
for the money when you through, don’t be surprised, b-tch!
and it ain’t trickin’ if you got it
but you like a b-tch with no ass: you ain’t got sh-t
motherf-cker, i’m ill, not sick
and i’m okay, but my watch sick, yeah, my drop sick
yeah, my glock sick, and my knot thick — i’m it
[verse 4]
see, they say i’m rappin’ like b.i.g., jay, and 2pac
andré 3000, where is erykah badu at? who that?
who that said they gon’ beat lil wayne?
my name ain’t bic, but i keep that flame, man
who that one that do that, boy?
you knew that true that, swallow
and i be the sh-t, now you got loose bowels
i don’t owe you like two vowels
but i would like for you to pay me by the hour
and i’d rather be pushin’ flowers
than to be in the pen sharin’ showers
tony told us this world was ours
and the bible told us every girl was sour
don’t play in her garden and don’t smell her flower
call me mr. carter or mr. lawn mower
boy, i got so many b-tches, like i’m mike lowrey
even gwen stefani said she couldn’t doubt me
motherf-cker, i say “life ain’t sh-t without me”
chrome lips pokin’ out the coupe, look like it’s poutin’
i do what i do, and you do what you can do about it
b-tch, i can turn a crack rock into a mountain — dare me
don’t you compare me, ‘cause there ain’t n0body near me
they don’t see me but they hear me
they don’t feel me but they fear me
i’m illy, c3, 3 peat
[verse 5: ripsi winelover]
hit-banga millionaire
none of these b-tches
can compete with me
i know b-tches ain’t dissing
me when they don’t have
an album out
now thats fan behavior
these b-tches love
throwing racks on me
i put my ass on display
like a manniquin on a store
front b-tch better stay out of my
way because im coming

- ripsi winelover

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