Master P, Silkk the Shocker, Mo B. Dick, Lil’ Gotti Gambino - Bourbans and 'Lacs lyrics

This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs
With the tens and the twelves
Bumpin' in the back
This is for the players, hustlas, pimps
And macks with the Benz, makin' ends
I mean them paper stacks
This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs
With the tens and the twelves
Bumpin' in the back
This is for the players smokin' doolamac
Slappin' skins
Makin' dividends and riding strapped

(Uhhhhhh) wood grain with the leather seats
Windows so dark you need a
Flashlight to see me smokin' on that doja
Four niggas in the back screamin'
"No Limit soldiers!" true to the gizzame
Stopped in the projects
Sold a half an ounce of cocaine
Hit interstate ten, to Texas
Listening to DJ Screw, just raced a Lexus
Called up Pimp C
Did a song last week with my nigga Bun B
Twistin' on some green spinach
And niggas still trippin', I ain't dead
I'm still in it

This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs
With the tens and the twelves
Bumpin' in the back
This is for the players, hustlas, pimps
And macks with the Benz
Makin' ends and them paper stacks

See pockets full of dollars already stacked
So I'm gangsta leaning sideways
Today ain't Friday
Ten it is and today is my day
Take it from mister hundred spoke rider
Cadillac Suburban driver, pussy diver
Push the Glock inside when I'm ridin'
Flossin' down the block
Holla at my boys up in the third
Got the latest word, swerve
To the side of the curb
A fiend that wanted me to serve him
I said, "Bitch, can't tell I'm off?"
But I still gave him five dollars
To wipe my white walls
And then I burst up out the block
Dropped the top 'cause it was hot
Hit the spot with the most hoes
At the sideshow, abouts to plot
Hittin' donuts, you know I’m actin'
A straight-up menace
Catch me spinnin', you can tell I was there
'Cause there was a cloud of
Smoke when I was finished
I seen 5-0, and man he tried to sweat me
Thinkin' he'd be nice and all
'cause I gotta 185
In the hood and you know they can't catch me
And if you see me chilling you can stop me
But I keep that Glock 40 up on the dashboard
You never know who might try me
This is for the playas

Playa, play on i can't hate you homie
Playa, play on i can't hate you homie

Bourbons and 'Lacs, mansions and bitches
Money and weed a made life is all I dream
Paper chasin' for that green
I'm thuggin' on the scene, nigga
Whatcha don't believe? Well
Check the credentials, they'll tell ya
A nigga's livin' presidential
I'm on the level that you
Bustas will never feel
My daughter thought I'd get caught up
In the game and get killed
But reverse that shit and hit the
Studio and make a mil for real
I'm slangin' platinum shit until
I'm old and ill
Lil' Gotti, I'm gonna make you
Feel what I say, i got time to parlay
Chill off in the bay, smoke some hay
I wouldn't have that shit no other way
The made life, the game tight
No Limit for life

This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs
With the tens and the twelves
Bumpin' in the back
This is for the players smokin' doolamac
With the Benz, makin' ends
I mean them paper stacks
This is for the Bourbons and the Cadillacs
With the tens and the twelves
Bumpin' in the back
This is for the players smokin' doolamac
With the Benz, makin' ends
I mean them paper stacks playa, play on
I can't hate you homie
Rollin' on chrome and candy