Young Money, Boo, Mack Maine, Curren$y, Lil Wayne - Dis How We Do lyrics

BOO gets that dough
Blane rose gold while I got yo hoe
Don't even mention the flow
I don't even like rap
I just do it for the scrap
Got chrome on my lap toast on my lap
Cruisin' through the city fox fur on my back
Man you niggas is wack
Plus, this young money cream got
Me acting like that
'Cause nowadays I ain't gotta
Package that crack
Keep ties to the streets so
I ain't gotta go back
Certified pimp, bona fide mack
I just really fall back
I don't chase that cat
'Cause Lil Boo just ain't no good
West side of Chi where shit gets so hood
Nigga act tough then he gon' get laid down
Look at my face nigga I don't play 'round
Holla at me

Mack Maine, uh real as they come
Tommy on me ain't a Hilfiger son
Grip macks that blow
Pitch black, the clothes
Black Dickie fit, black hat, black Girbauds
Whip past my foes
In something they can't afford
Nah, I ain't talkin' about a Honda Accord
Young Money, the tour bad bitches adore
They let us all up in they valores
They say im so hood puff that good good
My freaks give good head
They all got good jug be in a black truck
Hittin' a kill bill im prolly with izzel
Baby you prolly with trill real
Runnin wit hotspitta you know dat we G'd up
And hell yeah back in the G we was re'd up
Im bout have seed gotta to raise my seed up
Now all my dogs in the bin
Nigga just feed up

Aye i got that all black porsche
On them double black buttons
Blend in so well
Look like im ridin' on nothin'
Talk a lot of shit but
I ain't lyin' on nothin'
She love my satin sheets It's
Like she lyin' on nothin' weezy F Baby bitch
If you don't say the baby you make me sick
Young money baby girl take these dicks
The new AKs got crazy grip
Hottest of the hot bitch recognize the nigga
Lookin at my chain like ya lookin at a mirror
I ain't got no lamborghini
Doors on that escalade
I'mma just go get da lamborghini instead
Down south dread insane for the bread
Don't give my name to the feds
Cause they say im so grove im hot so stove
Me and money is like khakis and polos weezy

Yeah, why am I so fly? I don't know
Why am I so high? That's the drug
Is that a CL5? Oh for sure
Who you got inside? Some other nigga hoe
Curren$y the hotspitta he a G
Bitches take me out to eat
And you'll be eatin' bitches out
One thing about the kid to the cold I spit
If she ain't 'bout suckin' and fuckin'
She ain't coming to my house
Yeah, niggas know h-how I do it
When I was in school with my all black Guccis
Sittin' in the back of
The class actin' stupid
Or in C-Murder truck takin'
Bitches to the movies oh, no, hotspitta Dawg
Back up in the heezy baby
He's so disrespectful to these ladies
I curse them out and all they say is
"You so crazy"