[T-Pain - Chorus] All I Do is win win win no matter what Got money on mind I can never get enough Whenever me and Khaled do the remix Everybody hands
like it rough boy But if it's too rough, take a detour Slide right down to my seashore By the way I don't smoke, so what the weed for? You get a low
this Funny brothers on my nerves type ridiculous I guess I really gotta do it, put my game down Holla game fucking blew it put my name down And it seems
as if my name was sega But I ain't going out like no punk bitch Get used to one style and you know I might switch It up up and around, then buck buck you down Put
cooked like bacon Can't believe you're not butter you thought you was on it Out trying to flaunt it but it's just Blue Bonnet And now it's my turn kid
cooked like bacon Can't believe you're not butter, you thought you was on it Out tryin' to flaunt it, but it's just Blue Bonnet And now it's my turn
of dawn of time I do it all the time But you know it don't come easy Cause I turn on the TV I see more and more pain and less and less glory And it's
bed all night you just trying to sleep it aint like em with that chick from the other side of town Yeeh. It Is What Is, Baby Wipe Me Down (Yeah) think back how it
it out. Break Through, Check it out. I need a rich girl, so I can sip Champagne, spill it on her dress and she don't complain. She wear it once, and
And it's always the same them dice you rolling ain't 'bouta change I'm snatchin' your chain, reimbursing you with some pain It's all over mane, in which
?cause I?m a flirt Please believe it unless your game is tight and you trust her Then don't bring her 'round me because I?m a flirt Kels, T.I., T-Pain Ladies, if your man ain't hitting it
day that I die, can't spit it no more All my niggaz that tusslin', get yours All my bitches that's makin' money, get yours The world ain't only mine, it
(Oooo) You drive me crazy Just remember you could burn me out Slow it down It's been a long hot summer And it's 95 degrees in the shade (Ba ba baaa) It
is free nigga Chorus x2 This is for my people locked down Hold you heads up and stand your ground On the block it's the same struggle The cops put
on the remix, I'm bringing it on CHORUS [Maestro Fresh Wes] You wack MC's is like a case of clamydia It's one big pain in the ass to get rid of ya When
on the remix, I'm bringing it on Chorus [maestro fresh wes] You wack mc's is like a case of clamydia It's one big pain in the ass to get rid of ya When
it And these scars, contusions, concussions, fractures and pains you suffer from; I probably did it You ain't worth spit, I put a hit out on your mother
tryin to run game on a nigga, lame nigga you won't be me Won't be be Proof, won't be Pun, won't be Pimp, won't be 'Pac Same nigga in the passenger seat