Nelly - Tho Dem Wrappas Lyrics

Writer(s) : HAYNES, CORNELL / EPPERSON, JASON
Artist: Nelly Lyrics
Popularity : 69 users have visited this page.
Album: Track 12 on Country Grammar
Rate: Tho Dem Wrappas gets avg. rating 5.3 out of 10 based on 4 ratings. Rate the song now!!!

I boss through in a Hummer, Murphy the Don, Lizzie, Keyuan
With the Best thunder than Shaun Jon, you don't want None
I gotta rep to leave heads swolle up
On top of all that, I got the rap sewed up
Hold up, with the Buddha thumpin' *****s Quota
And just the teach a lesson, I put one in ya shoulder
I told ya, 'Tics live for the street life
Eat Right, **** good, And reffer through the Pipe
And give me head all night
And if its some beef, I pumping lead on sight
Until they deceased
I took ya head off right
I live in the Beast
*****, where the Feds, Play shiest
I still floss ice, keep it tight
E-very time, call me the Black Liberace when I'm playing mine
That's how I flow, I gotta get mine partner, any way it go
Whether it be rapping or with the 4-4

[Chorus: x2]
Let's make a Million
Keep it real for Triple-0
Eyes low, from plenty Henny and Hydro
**** a ***** and some Clothes
I gotta get rich, Go platinum in two shows
And get the Dough

My *****, I can make a million
Blind-folded, with no shows
Using no flows, just Arm -n- Hammer
And folk O's
Gimmie low does and a Connect, that never closed
And watch me lock it down from North County to BenRos
**** some Mo-Mo's, Gimmie hundreds with soft chrome
On the Navigator equipped to click and log on
I leave that before its gone
'Fore they even bring it home
Matter Fact, I'll tell you what's in the back, its all gone
Two holes in the roof, to let the sun come in
Match it leather car seat, in case my son get in
I spare one off in the back in case he bring his friend
PlayStation just in case a ***** think he can win

[Chorus: x2]

I gotta make a million
Gotta get myself a million
Gonna turn that into a billion
If not, then I just won't die

I say now, Tho yo wrappers off in the air
But only if the ice on your wrist cause glares
I getting stares from down *****es, that's eating alone
West missies, 1-2-3-4 or 5 bottles of Cris's
On the Table, arms the strong ripp off the Label
No more shows for free, I'm pay-per-view like Cable
They all screaming my name, different shades and race
Take them all backstage and lett'em plead they case
Make a million like Jigga, standing in one place
Sound Scan like Thrilla with out changing my face
They threw weed plan be says,
Who says them snakes
Then what's plan A, cause plan is a bmbcase

[Chorus: x2]

I gotta make a million
Gotta get myself a million
Gonna turn that into a billion
If not, then I just won't die

All my Midwest *****s trying to make a meal,
Tho Dem Wrappas (And the Dough-O)
All my Dirty South *****s trying to make a meal,
Tho Dem Wrappas (And the Dough-O)
All my West Coast *****s trying to make a meal,
Tho Dem Wrappas (And the Dough-O)
All my East Coast *****s trying to make a meal,
Tho Dem Wrappas (And the Dough-O)


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