No Ceilings, nigga
Got T in here, Fuque in here
Streets in here, Lucc in here
We in here biatch, haha
Okay, Boston Red Sox cap, I get baseball money
Used to do it big, but now, bitch, I do it Paul Bunyan
Cincinnati Reds cap, skinny jeans, black Chucks
Hollywood shotgun, watch me make it act up
Saints cap, new car, paint that if it ain't black
Red light, press a button, make the top faint back
That was tough, so are us, no such thing as sobered up
You close minded, I shoot you in the head I bet you open up
High yellow women with her hair to her ass
Bring her home, fuck her like a belt then I crash
And when it comes to head, I get that head of the class
I got them green backs like I laid in the grass
Lucci be my nigga, the east is up the buildin'
Young Mula ba-, the blanks already filled in
Fire alarm dick, them bitches wanna pull
Weezy baby nigga I ain't just good mothafucka I'm
I'm good (haha, No Ceilings)
Still no job, bitch, but I ain't hurtin'
Phone still ringin' so I'm still workin'
Got coke for the snorters, drank if you slurpin'
Even got a couple pills for you if your back hurtin'
Uh, they call me Mr. Pharmaceutical
I'm getting money every time I'm in the studio
I'm getting money, bitch, even when I do a show
I get the money even if I have to sue a ho
That's how the game go, eastside play it cold
We love the new coupes, we love our necks froze
You couldn't be me if you could
Weezy Baby, Lucci Lou and we good
I'm good, yeah
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.