Jeezy - Mr. 17.5 lyrics
Young Jeezy [Jay Wayne Jenkins] Columbia, South Carolina, U.S.🇺🇸
[Jeezy - Mr. 17.5 lyrics]
(vrrooomm) motherfuckers acting like I ain't
Supposed to shine
I ain't the 1, definitely not the 2 (nope)
1 in the chamber when we aiming at you
(Blaou)
The young Bob Barker, the price is right
If you COD then you could get them tonight
Put the fish scale on the scale
The boy went postal, all he do is check mail
(HA HA) low key, under the radar
Triple black 'Vet, yeah I call it the stealth
No currency machine, I could count it myself
Almost done, another quarter million in ones
Thunderstorm in the Body Tap
Look what I've done
Chump change, I make it rain for fun
(whassup)
Snowman, get cha' hands up high
It's ya boy, Mr 17-5 i take it back to the
Block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots
Snowman, get cha' hands up high
It's ya boy, Mr 17-5 i take it back to the
Block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots
I get them bars out of the back of my mind
(that's how) i reminisce like Mary J
Even in the drought, the boy kept that yay
100 percent certain, Snowman was workin'
You can blame my plug and my clientele (why)
I'm addicted to that new car smell
White cookies in a plastic bag
New shoes on the coupe with the paper tag
Whole life flash right before your eyes
See the state troopers and get butterflies
Got a thing for them Heckler and Koches
Mini 14s and rolex watches
Somewhere in the back of my
Sick and deranged brain
I get a rush when I talk that 'cane
Get money, nigga fuck them haters
All we fear is the
Discovery and indictment papers (whassup)
Snowman, get cha' hands up high
It's ya boy, Mr 17-5 i take it back to the
Block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots
Snowman, get cha' hands up high
It's ya boy, Mr 17-5 i take it back to the
Block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots
I'm a grown ass man, I stand on my own two
200, 000 cash, yeah, I'm buying my own team
Right to your front door, operation so sweet
I like little dude who keeps
His money so neat but, I still bury a nigga
Put the mask on, Jim Carrey a nigga (Blaou)
Suede ends in the Chevy
Got me feelin awkward
Careful with the sweets, don't burn my seats
You could live your whole life
And not come close
Guess thats why these rap niggas take notes
Recite my adlibs, borrow my quotes
Make me IHOP a nigga
Serve them with the toast
Next, they be dressing like me
But back in '93
They wasn't stressing like me (whassup)
Snowman, get cha' hands up high
It's ya boy, Mr 17-5 i take it back to the
Block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots
Snowman, get cha' hands up high
It's ya boy, Mr 17-5 i take it back to the
Block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots