Yeah, yeah, Slim Thugga
I don't think they ready for this beat
We gon' take them boys to Texas right quick
You know Tha Boss talk shit, walk shit, floss shit
Like it don't cost shit, that's why I'm Tha Boss, bitch
Got a million worth of cars, bought a million dollar house
From making words rhyme out my million dollar mouth
You can see the watch gloss when you see Tha Boss walk
I keep my lips closed 'cause it cost when I talk
I'm so flashy, rims so glassy
Pull the dropper out, we gon' show them boys nasty
Hood rats harass me, I don't want the drama
They wanna get put up so they could be me baby mama
But I'm a chill, I'd rather work wood wheel
And throw them vogues and grills on candy automobiles
I'm still tipping on vogues, closing candy blue doors
From the old Caddy Coupe to the new blue Rolls
I'm from the hood living good so I'm pimping
I ain't got my plaque in yet but I'm already platinum
Skating, ass mister, money making, ass mister
That 'Star Trak' sign getting way damn bigger
Put Snoop in a Coupe, I put Slim in a slab
I put them motherfuckers out wit that one two jab
With the glamorous jewels, with the chandelier hues
Every time I wave my wrist, it makes the Channel 3 News
In that 100 EX, that two door shit
Look in my rear view, listen, you're too close Thicke
You got it wrong, I don't touch the heaters
Though my Ice Cream sneakers got the drug dealer beepers
Don't let your Ego eat you, let me teach you
All that make your chest look just like some pizza
You see what's happening, we King Kong smashing 'em
When new bitches is on my arm, the paparazzi is snapping 'em
The future's ours and yours is blackening
Me and Tha Boss, nigga, we already platinum
You ain't saying shit, you're weak and prom too
I'm making money making beats and plus, I pop too
Playa chill, don't get your body chopped and screwed
Have you sucking through a straw just to opt for food
About face and walk our way on too
Let the ladies in here do what they gon' do
Seem like my wrist been dipped in diamond fondue
It's not just me, my man got one too
I got my mind on cash and my grind on smash
Nowadays, I gotta count my money by the bags
I done ran through the rags, now I get to see riches
Went from having rats to the superstar bitches
Used to never leave out them Northside blocks
Now I'm going to parties in Miami on yachts
And the grind don't stop, every time you hear me rapping
Without the plaque in, I'm still already platinum
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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