The Boys

P-p-punch line queen, no boxer though

Might pull up in a Porsche, no boxster though

Tell a hater, "Yo, don't you got cocks to blow?"

Tell them Kangaroo Nick, I'll box a hoe

They said I got five and a possible

Don't go against Nicki, impossible

I done came through with my wrist on popsicle

Man, these hoes couldn't ball with a testicle, nigga

Your lipstick stain smells like a cheap hotel

D-d-diamond watches and a gold chain

Can't make my frown turn around

The boys always spending all their money on love

The boys always spending all their money on love

They wanna touch it, taste it, see it, feel it, bone it, own it, yeah, yeah

Dollar, dollar, paper chase it, get that money, yeah, yeah

You get high, fuck a bunch of girls

And then cry on top of the world

I hope you have the time of your life

I hope I don't lose it tonight

B-b-bald head pussy got lots of juice

Lopsided on the curb, so I block the coupes

Watch the deuce

Man, I'm stingy with my kitty cat, daddy

"Did you ever really love me Steebie?"

Rrrr, pull up in the rrrr

Wrist on burr, pussy on purrr-purrr

I don't even brake when I'm backing up

I'll swerve on a nigga if he acting up

I done pushed more sixes than a play date

Get money by the millions, fuck a day rate, nigga

Your bossed up swag got 'em drooling like a newborn babe

The dollars in they eyes got them blinded by a Masquerade

The boys always spending all their money on love

The boys always spending all their money on love

They wanna touch it, taste it, see it, feel it, bone it, own it, yeah, yeah

Dollar, dollar, paper chase it, get that money, yeah, yeah

You get high, fuck a bunch of girls

And then cry on top of the world

I hope you have the time of your life

I hope I don't lose it tonight

I put all you bitches on to them good lace fronts (oop)

Girls is my sons, carried them for eight months (oop)

And yes, you're premature, Young Money to the Core (oop)

I might give you a ticket so you can come see the tour (oop)

Oh, that's your new girl, that's that mid-grade

Buck 50 on your face with the switchblade

Or the razor, y-y-yeah, the razor

She my son, yeah, b-b-but I ain't raise her

Goose me, hater, I get that loose leaf paper

Them V-necks be studded out, T-Rex be gutted out

I told 'em Nicki be chilling, I'ma keep hurting they feelings

Because you'll never be Jordan you couldn't even be Pippen

You couldn't even be tripping, you can't afford a vacation

I'm out in Haiti with Haitians, I go to Asia with Asians

You mad dusty, you a lil' dusty possum

I just come through with the six like my name was Blossom

You get high, fuck a bunch of girls

And then cry on top of the world

I hope you have the time of your life

I hope I don't lose it tonight

You get high, fuck a bunch of girls

And then cry on top of the world

I hope you have the time of your life

I hope I don't lose it tonight

The boys always spending all their money on love

The boys always spending all their money on love

The boys always spending all their money on love (uh, Pretty Gang)

(Young Money) the boys always spending all their money on love (Cassie)