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jay rock feat black hippy - vice city lyrics

big money, big booty b-tches
man that sh-t gon’ be death of me
big problems, i must admit it
man that sh-t gon’ be death of me
i pray to a c-note, my mama gave up hope
i can’t stand myself
i just bought a new coat, i might go broke
i can’t stand myself
big money, big booty b-tches
man that sh-t…

turn me up
sin city, sin city, sin city, sin city

big money, big booty b-tches
tell the truth, n-gg- i’m lost without it
7 figures for a headline
you want some stage time we can talk about it
n-gg-s actin’ like they be rappin’
like nice on the mic, truly doubt it
go against the kid, y’all don’t wanna live
that decision is h-lla childish
rose gold for my old hoes
they ain’t satisfied then i sit ’em down
10th grade, i gave her all shade
but now she got some -ss, i wanna hit it now
i don’t lease, i just all out feast
i put a blue caprice on gary coleman
bomb head and some cheese eggs
that’s a new raise, and a signing bonus

fall in this b-tch
like some good p-ssy, can’t stand myself
so good, she so hood
she a cheesehead, patty melt
ged with some ebts, and some ebd’s
that sh-t was happening
she reel me in with some chicken wings
and some collard greens, that sh-t was brackin’
just cracked me a new b-tch
bust a new nut on her n-gg-‘s jersey
my b-tch get off at 9 o’clock
so i had to shake her ’round 7: 30
105, i’m stomping fast
with these big guns, i’m h-lla dirty
get caught with this sh-t
i ain’t comin’ home ’til like 2030

i got big money, big booty b-tches
man that sh-t gon’ be death of me (death of me)
big problems, i must admit it
man that sh-t gon’ be death of me (death of me)
big dreams, no superst-tion
man that sh-t gon’ be death of me (death of me)
i pray to a c-note, my mama gave up hope
i can’t stand myself
i just bought a new coat, i might go broke
i can’t stand myself
i just might ban myself
i just might… god!

i’m focused feeling blessed, cause my eyes be the truth
i’m focused feeling blessed, cause my eyes be the truth

mental window blurry as a b-tch
still lookin’ out it
so much money off the f-ckin’ books
could write a book about it
took a minute, no, wait a minute…
let me think about it
bout 10 years, crips, bloods
sweat and tears and we still counting
had a real thick b-tch named brooklyn
she f-cked the whole squad
now every time i land in brooklyn
they f-ck with the whole squad
i’m more spiritual than lyrical
i’m similar to eli… why?
cause i’m wearin’ black shades
and i’m headed west with the word of god
i think i’m finally ready to talk about it
these n-gg-s just talk about it
homie you don’t play me for no fool
poppin’ bottles like in enemigos, los dios mio, i’m so cold
get so deep in that water, water
they should call my johnson a harpoon

feed the needy, don’t know graffiti
paint her walls like a cartoon
beat the p-ssy up so bad
send her home with some war wounds
loaded off the ‘gnac, hit her from the back
goin’ ‘cross her head… bar stool
touch her soul ’til i curl her toes
then it’s time to reload, then it’s part two

d-mn near 30 still set trippin’ cuz
where you’re from, i’mma see about it
last year i made 10 million
that’s where i’ve been yeah, a private island
smoking something, on autopilot
got too many cars, i might crash a whip
new ‘rari pedal barely tapping
n-gg-, vroom-vroom, yeah i’m rich b-tch
got two rollies but one missing
think my daughter flossing, she in kindergarten
got one crib worth two cribs
and my front lawn, yeah that’s water fountain
you be talking boss, saying big words
like philosophies, man you weird homie
what it sounds to me that you broke as f-ck
and your b-tch gon’ leave and that’s real homie
a dashiki on, with a fedora on
and my round gl-sses, trying to fool the cops
i’m with you dot, on that sneak dissing
when you penny b-tchin’ n-gg-, shoot the fade
ugly n-gg-, but i’m fine as wine
did you check your time, i get good with age
shoot the nine like, fourth grade
black hippy droppin’, eyebrows raised

i’m focused feeling blessed, cause my eyes be the truth
i’m focused feeling blessed, cause my eyes be the truth

i got big money, big booty b-tches
man that sh-t gon’ be death of me (death of me)
big problems, i must admit it
man that sh-t gon’ be death of me (death of me)
big dreams, no superst-tion
that sh-t gon’ be the death of me (death of me)
i pray to a c-note, my mama gave up hope
i can’t stand myself
i just bought a new coat, i just might go broke
i can’t stand myself
i just might d-mn myself
i just might… god!… god!

- jay rock feat black hippy lyrics

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