Finale
They call me Young Gudda, I'm all about the dough still
And anybody in my way, road kill
Everything my hands touch turn to gold
Money, knots and jewels with no records sold
(Yeah)
I'm manhandling rappers with no effort
So imagine what'll happen when I start applying pressure
Guillotine flow who ready to get severed nigga
In or out the booth you could get leveled nigga
Yo, we are Young Money, nigga you can't chocha
It's about to get real ugly, Amarosa
YM vultures, there ain't a family doper
We done changed the way the game looks, Sammy Sosa
(Ha, ha)
This is life this ain't a job, Audemare and Shapor
I did it all for the Yankees, did it all for New York
And this love no need to thank me, Millz
Uh, fast money I don't slow dance
Young Money muthafucka till the world end
Money over weight, bitch, Rosanne
I don't listen to these kids, grown man
Skinny nigga dubbed up, Lohan, Lindsey
The white Benz, same color Mike skin
Make ya soul spin when the ping load in
Au revoir, goodbye, now applaud
Young money lil' G, Battle juice in my blood
Jumpin' at ya boy, man, you better have ya bungee cord
Since Wayne took me off the leash, I ain't lose a fight yet
Now come drag ya dog out the ring how he love that
Yung with a attitude, watch how ya talk to me
Keep playing Freddy boi, I'll leak on ya Elm Street
Trouble is what you want dog, pain is what you gon' get
It's Young money till the bone grizzle, ya dig?
Young money good night
And yeah I'm gonna shine like an ultraviolet light
Lil' Twist cold cellar like it's open tonight, thirty first nigga to write
You need a telescope sight to try to see me, I'm so far gone
Even though I'm going out kids, I'm so far on
I gotta house full of chicks like the Playboy home
Wrapping up my lifestyle and I smash this song Twizzy
I'm in that cotton pink Bent', puttin' mass on the guts
White on white whips, Kunta Kinte on the clutch
You at the bottom of the pole, Totem
Like Lamar Odom, I ball, scrotom
Flyer than a cricket so they call me Nicki Jim-any
And it's going down like Santa in a chimney
You don't ball break ya baby back ribs
You need more assist than the handicap kids
(Oh, shit)
Young Money we rockstars, so fuck wit' ya magnum on
And hold on we go long, you feel that?
We get that, we in that, we run that, we bus' back
We hit 'em when we see 'em coming back for more, back for more
Michael Wade family in the building you can't hold us
Me, Taz and Wayne be the three new moguls
Buffet around here y'all boys scrape the plates
And we don't eat up in our whispa, they got paper plates
Soon as we leave the club, damn let the models go
One word I forgot to say on his album, Hollygrove
This track the finale, nah this the genesis
Young Money murderers, we killing shit, forever
Alright I got this, you can never get this
I built it up from nothing you would think I'm playing Tetris
Thousand dollar sweater on but I don't ever sweat shit
Swear the beats they give me got a mafucking death wish
Yeah, tell me who controls kings, I don't follow rules, stupid old things
I'm flying through the city in a coupe with those wings
And my team deserves some muthafucking
Superbowl rings, Young Money
I'm so in this bitch, CEO in this bitch
Lil' Weezy stand tall, tippytoe in this bitch
Blood gang muthafucka, da da doe in this bitch
Make ya girl get Barry Manilow in this bitch
In the body of the world, money is the blood
And everyday I be back and forward to the blood bank
Uh, making deposits till I fucking faint, New Orleans
Nigga, how about them fucking Saints
It's tight on our end call that Bubba Franks
Matter fact it's too tight add a couple links
I'm the bartender, you a women drink
Yeah, it's Young Money but the money ain't
Gudda tough, Nelly nice, Nick nasty, Streets bad
Tyga ill, Drake magic, Millz Harlem, Chuck wild
Twist Dallas, And Mack Maine rap, sing and manage
Uh, it's Young Moulah, baby