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Cashed Out Lyrics

from Dedication 4

"Cashed Out" is track #3 on the album Dedication 4. It was written by Dwayne Carter.
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"Cashed Out" is track #3 on the album Dedication 4. It was written by Dwayne Carter.
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[Verse 1]
Fuck nigga
My blunt bigger than these lil niggas
Keep stuntin with your bitch ass
Youll get jacked and Jilled, nigga
Fuck wrong with these sissy niggas?
Im smoking that Bill Bixby nigga
Im spendin money, spendin money
Ben Franklin dizzy nigga!
Your bitch on my dick, I told her I was busy
She say Wayne on me, Wayne on me cause yo ass need drizzlin
That pussy came gift-wrapped: bow and a ribbon
And if she bounce that ass then Im dribblin
That pussy so wet, it turned into a Gremlin
Theres only one me, aint no equivalent
She give me brain, brain like trivia
I got a black bitch and a red bitch
I call them hoes Aunt Vivian
Chopper knock your face off
Black shades, Ray Charles
I be killing young hoes
I got your ho up in my graveyard
I aint working with a full deck
But I pull out that Ace card
She grab that dick with 2 hands
Like she about to pray for it
Clips hanging, no curfew
Fuck you and who birthed you
Im shining like church shoes
Birdman Jr.: yall birdfood
Im bout it.. I said Im about to cum
She opened her mouth: water fountain
When Im on the scene Im on that lean
Bitch, Im drowsy
Man, Im so high I dont know what Im laughing about
I got bars, nigga
And its happy hour!
[Verse 2]
Riding round with them choppas, not them ninas
Riding around with a bitch named Molly and she on Molly ha!
Bitch I put my foot in your ass: karate
Man these niggas cant see me like a diary
Smoke that weed, lets get irie
Nigga shut up, that bitch got a silencer
Top of the gun there is a scope
I close one eye, I look like a pirate, fuck it!
Truckfit my bitch up, Tunechi leave big nuts
Im getting my dick sucked
I blow weed like its dust!
Spacehead: love pussy, hate feds
Just bought my girl a Ferrari Spider
Told her drive it like it got 8 legs
Im a made nigga: Machiavelli
That Mack-11 necessary
Im a hard head: I pop the cherry
No pussy no rats, no Tom and Jerry
They say your friends are your enemies?
Well, my friends are imaginary
Im the motherfuckin resolution like the 1st of January
My ride cold and my bitch hot
Im tired as hell but my dick not
I dont gas no bitch, no pitstop
Smoke Barney and Baby Bop!
Yall niggas act like lady cops
My niggas smoke like coffee shops
Thats syrup gang, wafflehouse
Gunfight, Ill knock you out
My bitch titties is poppin out
We poppin up and we get it poppin
Mask on, gloves on
Like Mickey Mouse, clips stickin out
Like Nickis ass
Smoking on that sticky bag
Weezy F: Im big and bad
Small feet, but I kick your ass
Im the trigger man, that shooting star
Eat that pussy like caviar
She treat that dick just like a straw
How you like them apples, Microsoft?
Now wipe it off..
I do Liv on Sundays: church!
Step off in that motherfucker fresher than some Certs
Uuh! Who the fuck is Stevie J?
I got the ball, playing keepaway
Kidnap your ass, kill your ass
Then hide your ass like an Easter Egg!
Its Hollygrove to my deathbed
Just make sure my pillows fluffed
Hit a nigga with a million shots
What you call that? A million bucks
Good weed, we pass around
Money talks: mine got a nasty mouth
Its Young Money, Cash Money
Til the motherfuckin day Im Cashin Out!

Songwriters
Dwayne Carter

Published by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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