Birdman, Lil Wayne, Swizz Beatz - Brown Paper Bag lyrics
Lil Wayne [Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.] New Orleans, Louisiana, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Birdman, Lil Wayne, Swizz Beatz - Brown Paper Bag lyrics]
All brown paper bag (Uh-Oh)
All brown paper bag (Uh-Oh)
All brown all brown - Fi-Fi-Fill
(Haha) it up wit' more
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)
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 want it
Buddy? Them bitches checkin' for me
Tell 'em I'm with Swizz Swizzy
They call me Wizzy Fizzy, holla back
Right now I'm busy i am the president
You just 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, ho
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
Yea, nigga cook a whole
Make it out a whole and a half bitch!
Yea, Birdman in a Benz
Wit' the duffel stuffed
Got a chopper wit' a drum and one iced up
Them people hot around my way but
We don't give a fuck we on the grind for the
Shine tryin' to come up
A black MAC, black 6, and a black Hummer
Them thirteen hundreds, fourteen hundreds
We be gettin' money drop it off
Get to work nigga keep it runnin'
Garbage bag full of cash nigga keep it comin'
In my hood Red Phantom nigga we be stuntin'
Got the block blocked off
Nigga we be hustlin'
Brown duffel bag filled up with cash
16 years old with a brand new, Jag bitch!
Get it up, in the air get it up, in the air
Now money cars clothes hoes
All a nigga know so
I'm from the ghetto so, give me my pesos
All brown paper bag
I could fill it up with ones
Nigga fill it up with ones
Hey fill it up with ones
I think that she's a
Stripper, dancer, 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 rims
Hey, triple gold nigga, sucka
I ain't ridin' thin
You want me come and get me i'm in 360
(Ferrari, man) Cash Money's with me
All brown paper bag (Uh-Oh)
All brown all brown - Fi-Fi-Fill
(Haha) it up wit' more
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)
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 want it
Buddy? Them bitches checkin' for me
Tell 'em I'm with Swizz Swizzy
They call me Wizzy Fizzy, holla back
Right now I'm busy i am the president
You just 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, ho
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
Yea, nigga cook a whole
Make it out a whole and a half bitch!
Yea, Birdman in a Benz
Wit' the duffel stuffed
Got a chopper wit' a drum and one iced up
Them people hot around my way but
We don't give a fuck we on the grind for the
Shine tryin' to come up
A black MAC, black 6, and a black Hummer
Them thirteen hundreds, fourteen hundreds
We be gettin' money drop it off
Get to work nigga keep it runnin'
Garbage bag full of cash nigga keep it comin'
In my hood Red Phantom nigga we be stuntin'
Got the block blocked off
Nigga we be hustlin'
Brown duffel bag filled up with cash
16 years old with a brand new, Jag bitch!
Get it up, in the air get it up, in the air
Now money cars clothes hoes
All a nigga know so
I'm from the ghetto so, give me my pesos
All brown paper bag
I could fill it up with ones
Nigga fill it up with ones
Hey fill it up with ones
I think that she's a
Stripper, dancer, 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 rims
Hey, triple gold nigga, sucka
I ain't ridin' thin
You want me come and get me i'm in 360
(Ferrari, man) Cash Money's with me