Ft. Lil Wayne & Birdman - Veteran's Day lyrics - Rick Ross
See the full Ft. Lil Wayne & Birdman - Veteran's Day lyrics from Rick Ross. Ft. Lil Wayne & Birdman - Veteran's Day lyrics belongs on the album Singles. Learn every word of your favourite song and get the meaning or start your own concert tonight :-). Rate this song's lyrics. Uploaded by Terrilyn Angus. Use it for personal and educational purposes only. Listen to these sick beats by Rick Ross.
Ft. Lil Wayne & Birdman - Veteran's Day lyrics
[Verse 1 - Lil Wayne]
I like my p**** a little wetter, my drinks a little colder
My girls a little older with her hair past her shoulders
Like my weed a little stronger, my money a lot longer
If blooding ain’t right, then I couldn’t be a wronger
I’m a bad motherf***er, be very afraid
Boy this heat will give your ass a raspberry beret
Been in the building motherf***er, we ain’t never escape
Ca-Cash Money is the army, veterans day
But the block done got hotter, the world done got colder
So f*** a diamond chain, we wearing guns on our shoulder
If you want it you can get it, come on sign up
We got choppers that will put that Tony Romo 9 up
Man we so about it, 5 star count it
Could have f***ed the world, but I left it how I found it
Took the game to school, now I’m ’bout to cap and gown it
Got a circle of success, you can say I’m well rounded
And by the way, my name is Tuneche
Tuneche baby haha, yeah
[Verse 2 - Birdman]
Uptown roller, take it off your shoulder
Tommy’s with the flag, spent the hundred high rollin’
Flipped it off the conda, made it off the conda
Sky scraping condo top floor aroma
High to the sky when I step up in this bitch
Thousand dollar cologne, no ceiling in this bitch
The marble for the Louie, the bag full of cash
Keep a strap on me, a mill on the tab
Priceless with these numbers, flipping in the seat
Junior doing time, kicking up his feet
A mill on the books, I’m stuntin’ with a fleet
A pretty red bitch we smash every week
Blowing on some good, Maybach the back seat
The bitch sleeping good, a mill on the sheets
Born rich from the hood, YMCMB
Yeah, Maybach, Maybach, brrrap
[Verse 3 - Rick Ross]
I’m that fat motherf***er, young entrepreneurs
Zombies in the street, we got them pouring out the sewers
Most controversial in the motherf***ing truest
And by looking at my jewels, I’m still the motherf***ing coolest
Waving your flag, you just a f***ing blood donor
And this bitch far from bad, who put these f***ing Uggs on her?
Took her to California, spent a f***ing dub on her
When she walk up in the club, now every f***ing thug want her
I’m just so f***ing special, lets see whats on the menu
F*** the promoter, my crib bigger than the venue
This the shit I’m into, all black in the rental
My chopper be making hits, its such a sad instrumental
These niggas love boys enjoying there little toys
I’m building hotels off the coast of St. Croix
100 mill, I accept nothing less, Ross
Black Ray-Ban’s at Obama’s next address
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