P Cutta - Man of the Year Lyrics
Get the lyrics to the song: Man of the Year by P Cutta at LyricsKeeper.com.
Man of the Year
Man of the Year Lyrics |
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What Are The Lyrics For Man of the Year By P Cutta?
Damn, I done walked in here
Looking like the motherfucking man of the year Think I had the motherfucking plan of the year Which was simply to make groupie fans of my peers And I get my girl whatever she desire And my niggas get whatever they require These rappers old, I'm the reason they expire Plus I got a city that I Carey like Mariah Damn, that punch line was predictable I still got you shitting bricks, homie quit the bull And we don't need new members, to me the clique is full And I be getting the same women that Tip can pull Believe or not, I receive a lot So I be wearing the same Gucci that Jeezy got And I be buying the Louis that Kanyeezy cop And I be ripping the same records that Weezy rock This shit is easy pop That's why I'm ready man I'd never copy Nor-bit like Eddie man Did you get it? Eddie Murphy was in Norbit Or was it way over your head, did you forfeit? Yeah, I take a woman shopping in a store quick Her ass big, she just trying to make a four fit Yeah, they need to issue out a recall I'm going up and they heading into a freefall The fundamentals are needed, you playing streetball And I was out at BET, but I didn't see ya'll These Skee-Lo rappers wishing they could be tall Letting all their fake friends use them like a free stall Damn, I done walked in here Looking like the motherfucking man of the year My shades so dark and my ice so bright My buddy in my pants wanna fight your wife Like, round one, round two, 'round three I told you not to ever bring a bitch 'round me 'Cause, ain't no nigga like a Young Money nigga No, ain't no nigga like me Ya dig I said I know you see me chilling super low key If I'm with the right niggas, you can scoop an O.Z All the hustlers and the bouncers and the groupies know me Fresh denim, fresh shades in a coupe with no keys It start up when I touch the door And I encourage ladies to touch the floor As soon as we finish cutting, we can cut some more Then after you get high Make em, get em, girl you finna get low Lights dimmed down Got a lota dough plus a hit sound What you mean you ain't heard? I come highly recommended Everybody my friend even if they been offended They ain't really got a choice, it's an obvious decision You tryna make a come up in my city, it's a given Plus a nigga famous, plus I got a vision Not to mention having bars like a motherfucking prison They taking too long, their records on hold They threatened by my presence cause I make them feel old Guaranteed if they drop, they bragging bout what they sold Just remember where I lived at, fifty thousand's going gold Holla at me when you see me, make yourself known Instead of hatin' on my music in the comfort of your home Nigga, be a man, you acting like a bitch I ain't acting like I'm rude I'm just acting like I'm rich, rich Riding with Weezy fucking Baby Are you the type of girl that me and Weezy fucking, baby? 'Cause I don't waste time, can't yo see a nigga lazy And I might need some help But, you know, Weezy's fucking crazy Damn, I done walked in here Looking like the motherfucking man of the year My shades so dark and my ice so bright My buddy in my pants wanna fight your wife Like, round one, round two, 'round three I told you not to ever bring a bitch 'round me 'Cause, ain't no nigga like a Young Money nigga No, ain't no nigga like me Ya dig Y.M., bitch, everyday Two times on Sunday Spitta! Check your blinkers, baby Check your blinkers, baby 'Cause, to me, look like you've been turning right all day, yeah Right my way, I got a boulevard, baby That's right, Cash Avenue Wall Street gangsta Carter, ya'll Why would I lie, yeah I ain't rich, bitch, I'm wealthy Young, I talk shit til I die Come kill me, nigga F*ck you, no homo She like it, yeah Boy, these motherfucking glasses I got on right now Are so motherfucking cold Damn, I done walked in here Looking like the motherfucking man of the year My shades so dark and my ice so bright My buddy in my pants wanna fight your wife Like, round one, round two, 'round three I told you not to ever bring a bitch 'round me 'Cause, ain't no nigga like a Young Money nigga No, ain't no nigga like me Ya dig |
Who Wrote Man of the Year By P Cutta?
Dwayne Carter
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What's The Duration Of The Man of the Year By P Cutta?The duration of Man of the Year is 5:18 minutes and seconds. |
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