Baby Aka The #1 Stunna

Baby Aka The #1 Stunna - Won't Be Coming Back lyrics

(feat. Mannie Fresh, Lac)

[Intro: Baby w/ (ad-libs)]

Oh yeah nigga, holla at ya boy! (Oh yeah, holla at ya boy)

You under smell, number one motherfucka! (Bird-Bezzy, Baby)

Bird call (brrrrrrrrr)

Mannie Fresh, laced me wit this beat, you know (Yeah!)

You under smell it, we got's to get some money baby

Ma I got to look good

We got to get this cheese nigga

[Verse 1: Baby]

Nigga flip on the block, the birds flew in

I pick up a bite, I attend to the wind

Shit, hungry dogs lyin town, dogs on the ground

Niggas hustlin, and pimpin tryna put it down

Pitch off the mound, that third world clown

We hustle for the money, we scramble for the pound

It's pimpin uptown, the boy in the lounge

Put the ice on the shelf, put the whips up clown

So put the whips up nigga, the Bird's in town

We tryna get the money, the jewels, the brown

Big houses, pimpin, shine uptown

Never gon' stop, we millionaire bound, be-atch

[Mannie Fresh]

Mr. Pimp Pickle, walk wit a wiggle

Keep a project bitch, and she gotta have that giggle

It's "Sex In the City" every time she get wit me

Wit her - up and down, and up - she pussy whipped

But her pimp gon' take it, or pull it out and break it off

Stop for ya pop, look her in her face, then shake it off

A different day another dollar, see ya later I will holla

Valet please could you bring around my Impala

[Chorus: Mannie Fresh]

I got to go, and you got to leave

I'm in the wind baby, pleave believe

That you won't be coming back

Get yo hat, yo coat

And walk on out the do'

Cause you won't be, coming back

[Verse 2: Baby]

It ain't nothin to a balla ma, cook somethin right

I need some chicken, French fries, need it off top

Lace my ride, black wall my tires

Bought mami to the mall, Stiletto boots, skirt tie

I worked her ride, I beamed her a line

She love a balla baby, Birdman pimp fly

Smoke hydro, we do it all night

Mannie Fresh, Baby, CMR for life

[Lac]

Lil' funky, nasty bitch, I pay you to fuck

For what bitch, better catch ya cut

I'm not a rat's haven, for hoes, I'ma piiiimp

Make them hoes call me Caddy Daddy Sliiiim

I'ma mac'a, break a gear and a game

Show a hotter hustle niggas, and bring head of the change

Who you think brought that Caddy, and that brand new Range

Wit them 24's on 'em, and all that blang - bitch

[Chorus] [w/ (ad-libs)]

[Verse 3: Baby]

I could give you what you want ma, you give me what I need

Make ya fly like a bird, and stay dressed to a T

Wit Stunna on ya neck, Smith-N-Wesson on the seat

Kitchen countin loot, I'm in the streets gettin money

Pimpin is a natural, on hoes I'm wit it

You never ride accurate, just dance and business

And we do the best of thangs, and we never slow down

We keep it all hood, cause that's how it's goin out

Slide in this ma, go holla at ya dogs

And have a good time, and head to the mall

I'ma take you to the block, wit the crack and mac

But it's the Birdman daddy, got the stacks of stacks

[Chorus] [w/ (ad-libs)]

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