The Luniz - Sad Millionaire lyrics

Can i do my thang?? *(yukmouth)* Speak on it. *(brownstone)* Oh, oh, ohhh. Oh, oh, ohh, hey. Verse 1 *(yukmouth)* Uh. n***az be havin the mutha f**in blues, Like 5-0-5's I won't lie, Homicide, Gram will cry, Pray for me that i won't die, Suicide, I won't try, Bullets fly, Drive-by, Don't let it slide, do or die, You an i, slide by, Catch them n***az off my side, Wit nothin to hide body die rot, On they porch, When i expectin some sort of drive-by, Type retaliation, Under styles i lace, mobbulation, Lets begin breakin down the situation, When, the end of our frustration, So while we racin down the block, wit a thirty-eight, an glock, The cops is waitin to umm, Accelerate on yo vehicle, Run down yo vehicle, Even if they have to gun down yo vehicle, n***a, up in these high-speedaz, Police they be the rosco bico train, Swervin in an outta lanes, Runnin from o-h-a, What they throw away, Eh, though, eh, way, Pistol, Every mutha f**a wanna peep. Chorus x2 *(brownstone & yukmouth)* Millionaire! Dreams of big millions play. Ever seen a sad millionaire? I thought that money make us happy. Verse 2 *(yukmouth)* What if i was a millionaire, Huh, A major playa on the block, That a mac daddy, drivin a black caddy couldn't stop, Hella strap happy, Cuz n***az slangin all my rocks, Point yo gats at me, I don't know where uzis to yo knot, Fo f**in wit the big shot, I was juss flat droppin g bannos on the ground, Be down, That's one of my sh**, an get shot, Only the baddest b**hes jock, Get chosen, Global shouts, For b**hes out there who be voguin, On the collar of poppa, Brand new hundred dolla billz, an a choppa, Where n***az strapped fo real, like chubacca, Who got the gonga, Cuz i be high like phone doctor, Spark on vodka, Eatin lobster, bumpin frank sinatra, Smoke-a-lot be the mobbsta, who shot ya, Like vinny blanca, Come back in the end juss to haunt ya, Plus i twist a benz like big poppa, What's the big proper use, Go get yo bread an do what ya gots to be a, Millionaire playa. Chorus x2 Verse 3 *(yukmouth)* Uh. You n***az juss created a monsta, f** a type, i smoke gonga, In the bahammas, f**in yo baby mama, Doggystyle (whoo,wee!) Two wow, you wow, Doubt man, Who wow "bout it, bout it", n***az be claimin they be the ice cream man, But i doubt it, doubt it, Be rowdy, Hit the paper chasin clout it, Sky up out the ugly four day la-la-by yo cuttie like a ballot, Smokin blunts, an crunchin weed, s**, Fresh outta drug rehabs, Spend two g's at every function i be at, Believe that, b**h!! Ya mind is smoke-a-lot, Grab b**hes by the throat-a-lot, That's what ya told the cops, I hold the glock, Aim it an fire, Retire another n***a, Nameless, Game is fo hire, Desire chariots fire, Light as i'm a tuck her, We're so called "potnaz", f** 'em, An dust em off wit a choppa, i can't rush 'em, Gotta bust 'em, Too skinny i can't trust 'em, An when the mutha f**az got meal tickets you might have to love 'em, An that's fo real. n***a. Chorus x5 *(yukmouth talking during chorus)* Have all this f**in money, an still ain't happy. n***a, still got Problems wit stress, mutha f**az juss think you got it made, they try To rob you an sh**, yo own potnaz in the hood juss wanna love you. f** Money, i wish i didn't have it, cuz when i didn't have it it was all Good, n***az loved me when i was juss drinkin brew an sh** at the store. Now ya got money everybody wanna k** me, n***a, ya own relatives wanna Do you, skanless boy, this is nine skrillion, make a million bucks. Millionaire.