Fiend, Mia X - Big Timer lyrics
[Fiend, Mia X - Big Timer lyrics]
Whoa there, big timer, big timer
I got money to the ceiling
Whoa there, big timer won't 'cha
Make your money and do what ya wanna
Let the champagne glasses, cashes
Comin out the ass drinks for everybody
Biggest mama stickin up the tab (Mama Mia)
Don't even ask if I could handle it
Bitch you didn't know I'm stackin
Ends like the Clampets (There it is)
Down south hustlin, workin my musc-lin
Mint greens labeled in God we trust'n
Bustin at the haters in the way of progress
Cause, I ain't tryin to live
From month to month (Naw) That's stress
I only want the best that
There is off the top
But, I ain't bout to brag about
The shit I don't got
So when you see the E4-20
Know that it's mine, paid out in full
So I put it in my rhyme
Thirty two hundred square foot, no doubt
Manicured landscape, and this my house
Paid out too, so I know I got the room
To state the fact that them
Hoes don't like that
But fuck that big timers put
Your knot in the air
And cock your nine for them jackers out there
Live your life, boy
Whoa there, big timer, big timer
I got money to the ceiling
Whoa there, big timer won't 'cha
Make your money and do what ya wanna
I be crackin like chiropractors
Fiend the young bachelor
That's too many muthafuckin million dollars
What I'm after meal ticket stash-a from
Brick flippin plaster
Now forever paid with Mama Mia and the Master
I cause disasters from the S's to the G
No clubs won't start without
The presense of me ya better ask somebody
My cake give knee chills
Givin migraine headaches from
Breakin these bills
See these chills but can't get to it
We way out
Every that I drive on chrome, is paid out
Close to the house on the hill, but no wife
Take the diamonds out my Rol
Your house have no light
The more ice, I'm wicked you're sick
And just piss ya might take a long line
The dance floor on Whispers
Whoa there, big timer, big timer
I got money to the ceiling
Whoa there, big timer won't 'cha
Make your money and do what ya wanna
I got money to the ceiling
Whoa there, big timer won't 'cha
Make your money and do what ya wanna
Let the champagne glasses, cashes
Comin out the ass drinks for everybody
Biggest mama stickin up the tab (Mama Mia)
Don't even ask if I could handle it
Bitch you didn't know I'm stackin
Ends like the Clampets (There it is)
Down south hustlin, workin my musc-lin
Mint greens labeled in God we trust'n
Bustin at the haters in the way of progress
Cause, I ain't tryin to live
From month to month (Naw) That's stress
I only want the best that
There is off the top
But, I ain't bout to brag about
The shit I don't got
So when you see the E4-20
Know that it's mine, paid out in full
So I put it in my rhyme
Thirty two hundred square foot, no doubt
Manicured landscape, and this my house
Paid out too, so I know I got the room
To state the fact that them
Hoes don't like that
But fuck that big timers put
Your knot in the air
And cock your nine for them jackers out there
Live your life, boy
Whoa there, big timer, big timer
I got money to the ceiling
Whoa there, big timer won't 'cha
Make your money and do what ya wanna
I be crackin like chiropractors
Fiend the young bachelor
That's too many muthafuckin million dollars
What I'm after meal ticket stash-a from
Brick flippin plaster
Now forever paid with Mama Mia and the Master
I cause disasters from the S's to the G
No clubs won't start without
The presense of me ya better ask somebody
My cake give knee chills
Givin migraine headaches from
Breakin these bills
See these chills but can't get to it
We way out
Every that I drive on chrome, is paid out
Close to the house on the hill, but no wife
Take the diamonds out my Rol
Your house have no light
The more ice, I'm wicked you're sick
And just piss ya might take a long line
The dance floor on Whispers
Whoa there, big timer, big timer
I got money to the ceiling
Whoa there, big timer won't 'cha
Make your money and do what ya wanna