SAUCE MONEY - MIDDLE FINGER U LYRICS

Writer(s):GAITHER, TODD ERIC / FRANKLIN, R.
Artist: Sauce Money Lyrics
Popularity: 10 users have visited this page this week.
Date: Originally added at 6:54 am October 07, 2003.

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**** these *****s

I don't give a **** about nothin
And you either

This is for you Tommy Tuckers, you know em, neighborhood suckers
We all got em, stupid ************s
want to-be rap brothers--ruggers--, bitin *** *****s who love us
Idolize us, eat a ****, can't touch us
Slick *****, far from a snitch *****
Or ***** *****, quick to click on a sick *****
Where it's at *****, roam with the chrome *****
Fat *****, bat against your dome *****
I'm that *****, one you can't even crush
Type of cat **** in your crib and don't even flush
Kind of ***** when you see him that you wantin to touch
On some Russell Simmons ****, but ain't in no Rush
Cause when the **** hit the fan, who the hell can you trust?
Duckin the blow? Really? Where the **** can you go?
Who the **** can you get when I'm ready to spit
When you hear my name I make you hate spaghetti and ****
Spit and aim with the fifth, if I get caught in a lie
Ten shots light you up like the 4th of July
I don't need your help, *****, I got support from the sky
Quite fluid, I'm a definite, you might do it
*****es, guns and ones, got a right to it
**** up against the wall, I send your *** right through it
Tattooed like Mike did it, leave you lightheaded
Swear to God, y'all *****s better act like Christ said it

Hey yo yo who the hell this Sauce ***** think he talkin to, man?
Arrogant bastard
Chubby ************
You think you alla that, man?
I can't even stand to hear this **** no more, man

Hey you know what ************s?  It don't stop there
I'ma solidify my rap spot til it's not fair
Nothin to do with it, *****s say, "I'm glad it was them"
Somethin to do with it, *****s gon' be glad it was them
Inspire men, or some R&B **** and fire ten
With Mya in it, gettin head from the way the tires spin
My whole circle is hot, like when the dryer spin
You just a cub *****, trapped off in a lion's den
Lookin for love? **** you, you found hate, stupid
I run with a 112 kids who raped Cupid
Plus got head, see my eyes, bloodshot red
Hands where I can cee like Busta said
I lead by example, ***** - must I led?
Last thing you hear is shots and every cuss I said
Real *****s walkin away, paramedics walkin your way
Crackin jokes while I'm talkin to Jay
Gettin head from four dimes from New York in a day
This flow here is stainless, what you thought it was clay?
Thought it was gold?  Only thing it bought was your soul
Split your wig, then confuse you for that fork in the road
I don't play with wack rappers, I slay wack rappers
Only aim to decay and spray wack rappers
If *****s want to front, and say **** my ****
Don't buy my album, **** you and suck my ****

Better forget it, just to be specific
Cause if you the one, then I'm too terrific
Better relax, 'fore you get it twisted
It's to the death now, if you make the shitlist

Forget your lingo, and how you primadonna *****s mingle
I'm real money, fold up, you funny money, jingle
News flash, here's a hot-*** item to bring you
Had a car, Roley, and house before my first single
I know how y'all *****s roll, quiet as a tear
My album ain't even dropped, and I'm writer of the year
I got ****, find me in your record store under 'hot ****'
While you register, under 'not ****'
I drop hits in the streets and triggers'll blow
Show after show, watch him, big as I roll
We all know the rules, fool, jewels, *****es and dough
Did you hear?  I'm the fattest, nicest ***** you know
And I kill a mutha****a just to gain a buck
Confuse *****s, bust guns, and aim to duck
If you happen to sell half weight your game is luck
Who write for who?  y'all sound the same, lame as ****
Can't control it, tried to sell it, heard it the way you told it
Who bought it?  And if you sold it?  Extort it
For somethin I might have smoked, roll it
Never get grimy as me, I **** a rattle snake if a ***** hold it
I got both sides of the fence in minute
I got hits with Jay, Clark, Primo, and none of my wheels is rented
I got a smash with Puff bout to drop any minute

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Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, SPIRIT ONE MUSIC OBO CLARK'S TRUE FUNK MUSIC

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