(M-M-M-Murda)
I got them birds, sell me them birds
This is absurd, I got the purse
Sell me the purse, sell me the Cutlass
They look like nerds when it come to numbers
Bitch, I'm a nerd, I'm doin' numbers
Bitch, I got birds, I got 'em hummin'
I got 'em twerkin', I got 'em jumpin'
I got a seven, I got a bundle
I got a worker, I got a runner
She got a Birkin, I got my gun in it in case you lurkin'
First, she didn't fuck with Cocaine, she converted
I gave her too much of the Yay, she got nervous
I put my thumb in lil' bitch and she squirted
I put some beads on her waist and her girdle
I put that ho in the air on commercial
I sent her all the way down to the Turks
Tiger Woods in the Sunday clothes
I said, "Whole birds, I don't do wings, this ain't Buffalo, bitch"
Whole bunch of vultures, whole bunch of crows, bitch
I'm the Eagle Street, rest in ???
I'm too cold to be a hot boy
And, I got birds flyin' south, boy
Yeah, I'm not bird to be a hot boy
I got them birds by the flock, boy
Yeah, I'm too cold to be a hot boy
I'm not bird to be a hot boy
I make them birds sing like "Quack", boy
Free as a bird in the clouds, boy
I got them birds, birds
I got them birds, birds
I got them birds
I got them birds, furs
Get 'em in Burb', I made 'em Prr, prr
All these girls, damn, I'm 'bout to serve
Yeah, I'm servin' them birds ahead of the curb
Yeah, I'm 'bout to swerve fast, the regulars burn
All of these feathers, damn
All these treasures, remember to always measure
Always business, yeah, never pleasure
Remember, always, never
Wings stretchin', yeah
Both directions, yeah
Always flexin', charge him extra
I got Big Birds, you need Tweety, call Sylvester, dawg
Tiger Woods, I got birdies dawg
If it's a drought, it snap my finger, all the birds gone fall
No discounts, fuck you mean? You talkin' bird shit, dawg
Number thirty-three, sell the jersey, bitch
I'm too cold to be a hot boy
Got birds flyin' south, boy
Yeah, I'm too bird to be a hot boy
Got them birds by the flock, boy
Yeah, I'm too cold to be a hot boy
I'm too bird to be a hot boy
I got more birds than you got clout, boy
Free as a bird in the clouds, boy
I got them birds, sell me them birds
This is absurd, I got the purse
Sell me the purse, sell me the Cutlass
They look like nerds when it come to numbers
Bitch, I'm a nerd, I'm doin' numbers
Bitch, I got birds, I got 'em hummin'
I got 'em twerkin', I got 'em jumpin'
I got a seven, I got a bundle
I got a worker, I got a runner
She got a Birkin, I got my gun in it in case you lurkin'
First, she didn't fuck with Cocaine, she converted
I gave her too much of the Yay, she got nervous
I put my thumb in lil' bitch and she squirted
I put some beads on her waist and her girdle
I put that ho in the air on commercial
I sent her all the way down to the Turks
It's Tiger Woods
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