Girl Talk - Make Me Wanna lyrics

Free me see me throw da dueces hatin'
Useless do sit keep da truth amazin'
Don't trip won't slip no whoopsie daisy
See da King fallen off u halucinatin'
You wanna talk about paper lets do it baby
10 mil' at a time I'm use to makin'
Tell em' mee maw jealous not Gucci baby
Goin hard in da spot like Gucci baby
Got sum true freaks wit me so cute in da face
They lil bad ass call 'em my bossie babies
MDMA they twerkilatin'
I feed 'em dick they feed me turkey bacon
Holla Sak pase get worth from haitians
Gotta coupe 20 mil' what it's worth today
Young tip Young Dro goin' turn da station
On da phone wit my nigga lil turkey sayin dat

I get so much money man
These niggas can't beleive me
Pocket BK double whopper so
You know it's cheesy and I be so fresh I got
These bitches want to see me
Everytime I hear them haters talking
I say freeze me oh you need to freeze me
Polo polo freeze me (Time after time)
Oh you need to freeze me polo polo freeze me
(Time after time)

Where's your head at?

Don't let the walls cave in on you
We can't live on, live on without you
Don't let the walls cave in on you
We can't live on, live on without you
Don't let the walls cave in on you
You get what you give that much is true
Don't let the walls cave in on you
You turn the world away from you

Where's your head at?
(Where your head at? Where your head at?
At? at? at? at? at? at?)
Where's your head at?
(Where your head at? Where your head at?
At? at? at? at? at? at?)
Where's your head at?
(Where your head at? Where your head at?
At? at? at? at? at? at?)
Where's your head at?
(Where your head at? Where your head at?
At? at? at? at? at? at?)

Flocka Flocka waka Waka Waka
Flocka flocka
Flocka waka
Flocka waka Flocka Flame
Brick Squad gotta main bitch
(And) gotta mistress (whateva)
A couple girlfriends, I'm so hood rich

You'll get bills free shawty no jokin
Ey what I stand for? Flocka! (Brick Squad)
I'm a die for this shawty man I swear to god
In the trap with some killers
And some hood niggas (Whassup)
Where you at? Where your
Trap? You ain't hood, nigga
Keep this shit 300, put that shit on my hood
Crips fuckin with me, G's and the Vice Lords
(brrrrrret)
Eses in the Meeko freestyle off da dome
Brick Sqaud Waka Flocka Flame it's fuckin on!

I go hard in the muthafuckin paint
I go hard, i go, i go hard
I go hard in the muthafuckin paint
I go hard, i go, i go hard


Yuh (Yuh) yuh (Yuh)
Yuh (Yuh) yuh (Yuh)

Richer than the richest
We certified gettin it CM
YM Cash Money business
Higher than the ceiling fly like a
Bird hit the gucci store
And later get served
We smoked out with no roof on it
Them people passin so we smash on them
Ballin out we keep the cash on deck
Lamborghini and the Bentleys on the V-set
Louie lens iced out with the black diamonds
Car of the year Ferrari the new Spider
No lie i'm higher than i ever been
Born rich born uptown born to win
Fully loaded automatic 6 Benz
Candy paint foreign lights with my bitch in
Born hustlin too big nigga to size me up
Can't stop me more money burn em up

(Now wait a minute)
(You know you make me wanna)
Pop, pop, pop those thangs
Pop, pop, pop those thangs
Pop, pop, pop those thangs
Pop (You know you make me wanna)
Pop, pop, pop those thangs
Pop, pop, pop those thangs
Pop, pop, pop those thangs
Pop (You know you make me wanna)
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs (Shout)
(You know you make me wanna shout)
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs (Shout)
(You know you make me wanna shout)
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs (Shout)
(You know you make me wanna shout)
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs
(Shout) Pop, pop those thangs (Shout)

You know I'll give it to you

(Hey-Hey-A-Hey, Hey-Hey-A-Hey)
(Hey-A-Hey-A, Hey-A-Hey-A)
(Hey-A-Hey-A, Hey-A-Hey-A)
(Hey-A-A-Hey, Hey-A-A-Hey)
Pop, pop, pop those thangs
Pop, pop, pop those thangs
Pop, pop, pop those thangs pop, pop, pop
Pop, pop, pop those thangs pop, pop, pop