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Boy
The #1s Lyrics
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Birdman motherfucker
Clipse, V-A, N-O nigga
What you smelt
Coke'll leave plastic
Get off the border motherfucker
Come on little'n handle your business for me boy
What happened to that boy (yo)
What happened to that boy
What happened to that boy
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy
Whoa, yeah, malicious, yeah
I heard they snitchin' on a player man say it ain't so
Even as a young'n they consigned me to blow
Witches claims why I'm worth my weight in gold
While they was taking baby steps from an 8th to an O
Word in the streets that can envy as me
Enough ice on that watch to make a nigga lose sleep
Magnified face help the bitch see clearly
9 on the waist hit the bitch up severely
I'm know for the flip of that coke I ener
I'm heavy in the street like the 7 series Bimma
Man, hit 'em with the Nina man
Or that 4/5th guaranteed to lean ya man (Whoa)
I'm the reason that your block is vacant
Malicious will hit ya just to make a statement
Bitch! Clipse and Cash Money who ain't rich
Don't compare me to you nigga you ain't this (Whoa)
[Chorus]
Stunna and Patty Cake the worldwide Pusha (get this money)
Birdman nigga leave the guns in the busher
(cuff 'em up, let 'em up bitch)
Been shittin' up bricks unload 'em to Gucci
Boss of the ghetto with the round shape cookie
Shit one, Dro one nigga flood the block
If I don't go to jail niggas birds gone flop
Nigga sittin' on the toilet bitch get off the pot
The bird just landed so the hood gon' rot
New whips, big chips the Prada Gucci shit
But mami your fly Benz the wide skinny lips
She takes my flight she holds my weight
While the po-po staked out from state to state
It ain't nothin' to a baller baby
Pay the cars, big money, heavy weight, bird man, hood boss
Baby steppin on my line I'll show a little somethin'
They callin' you don't come out
Then the black crow will touch ya (touch ya)
[Chorus: x2]
Another soul lost
Had to make a shirt match my ox blood colored Porsche
The rims match of course
Blood hit his Timbs it reminded me of them
Glistenin' wrist on chiller
Gun in the same palm of gorgeous killer
I put this on my lord my niece was 4 when she felt chinchilla
I past the shore for that shit that made fiends rise from the dead like
Thriller
Gangster, hustler
At night still found time to kiss my mother
Live like I'm dreamin' kick my feet up
Gun pulled my waist remind me of my demon
So quite ya yappin' fore I get to clappin'
And have your body parts mix and matching fella
[Chorus: x2]
Aye, Aye, Aye, Aye, there it is nigga, there you have it
Birdman, Clipse you under-smelt, VA you know
Uptown nigga, we go anywhere with this bullshit
We flip bricks you under-smell (gangster motherfucker)
Aye nigga put this puzzle together
Aye Pharrell you did this year (you did it nigga)
A 1000 pieces puzzles (startrak) 100, you know
Let's get this money (get the money)
Hey nigga I smell somethin', coke'll leave plastic bitch
Get money motherfucker
However you want it you can get it pimp
From gangster to blood nigga, take it how you want it nigga
We did it how we live, ain't nothin' but the thug thing nigga
Money thing motherfucker
The #1s's song "Boy" is a collaboration between Birdman, Clipse, V-A, and N-O. The song is a representation of the ghettos of the United States and how people hustle every day to make a living. The lyrics are filled with violence and references to drugs as well as the struggles of people living in the ghettos. The song begins with a proclamation that they will count money and light up cocaine, which is a common practice among drug dealers. They then talk about the violence that occurs on the streets when someone disrespects another person, and they put a "clap" into that person.
The lyrics also describe the struggles of being successful in the ghetto. They talk about how they sold drugs to go from an "8th to an O," and how people envy their success. The song talks about how they are not like other people and that they hustle harder than anyone else, and as a result, they have nice cars, lots of money, and jewelry that makes people jealous. The chorus repeats the question of what happened to that boy, who was shot for talking trash.
Overall, the song is a representation of the struggles that come with living in the ghetto, and it talks about how people have to hustle to make a living. It also talks about the violence that comes with disrespecting others and the material success that comes from being successful.
Line by Line Meaning
Tot' 'em up, light it up nigga
Let's count up the money and celebrate by smoking some weed
Birdman motherfucker
Birdman is here, respect him
Clipse, V-A, N-O nigga
Shoutouts to Clipse from Virginia and N-O (New Orleans)
What you smelt
What do you smell?
Coke'll leave plastic
Using too much cocaine will harm your body
Get off the border motherfucker
Stop selling drugs
Come on little'n handle your business for me boy
Step up and do your job
What happened to that boy (yo)
What happened to that guy we had a problem with?
He was talking shit we put a clap into that boy
We shot and killed him for disrespecting us
Whoa, yeah, malicious, yeah
We're dangerous and ruthless
I heard they snitchin' on a player man say it ain't so
I heard people are talking to the police, but I hope it's not true
Even as a young'n they consigned me to blow
Even when I was young, I was destined to sell drugs
Witches claims why I'm worth my weight in gold
People admire and envy my wealth
While they was taking baby steps from an 8th to an O
While other drug dealers were just starting out, I was already dealing in larger amounts
Word in the streets that can envy as me
People on the streets are jealous of me
Enough ice on that watch to make a nigga lose sleep
I have so much bling that anyone who sees it will be jealous
Magnified face help the bitch see clearly
My watch is so big and shiny that everyone can see it clearly
9 on the waist hit the bitch up severely
I carry a gun and will use it to severely hurt someone
I'm know for the flip of that coke I ener
I am well-known for selling cocaine
I'm heavy in the street like the 7 series Bimma
I have a lot of influence and power in the streets
Man, hit 'em with the Nina man
Shoot them with the gun
Or that 4/5th guaranteed to lean ya man (Whoa)
Or use a different gun that is guaranteed to hit the target
I'm the reason that your block is vacant
I am the reason why people are too scared to be on your block
Malicious will hit ya just to make a statement
I am willing to hurt someone just to send a message
Bitch! Clipse and Cash Money who ain't rich
I'm rich and successful, unlike those who talk badly about me
Don't compare me to you nigga you ain't this (Whoa)
Don't even try to compare yourself to me because you're not on my level
Stunna and Patty Cake the worldwide Pusha (get this money)
Birdman and Patty Cake are both well-known and successful drug dealers
Birdman nigga leave the guns in the busher
Birdman, put the guns away and don't cause trouble
Been shittin' up bricks unload 'em to Gucci
I have so much drugs to sell that even Gucci would want to buy them
Boss of the ghetto with the round shape cookie
I'm the boss of the neighborhood, and my stash of drugs is round-shaped like a cookie
Shit one, Dro one nigga flood the block
Let's sell as much coke and dro as possible on this block
If I don't go to jail niggas birds gone flop
If I don't go to jail, other drug dealers will be out of business
Nigga sittin' on the toilet bitch get off the pot
Stop procrastinating and start taking action
The bird just landed so the hood gon' rot
A shipment of drugs just arrived, and the neighborhood will become chaotic
New whips, big chips the Prada Gucci shit
I have new expensive cars and lots of money to spend on designer brands
But mami your fly Benz the wide skinny lips
Your beautiful Benz car has both wide and skinny wheels
She takes my flight she holds my weight
She travels with me and takes care of me
While the po-po staked out from state to state
While the police are trying to catch me in multiple states
It ain't nothin' to a baller baby
I'm so successful that nothing is impossible for me
Pay the cars, big money, heavy weight, bird man, hood boss
I pay a lot of money for expensive cars and I'm the boss of the neighborhood
Baby steppin on my line I'll show a little somethin'
If someone tries to get in my way, I'll take action against them
They callin' you don't come out
People are calling and looking for you
Then the black crow will touch ya (touch ya)
If you don't respond, something bad will happen to you
Another soul lost
Someone else has died
Had to make a shirt match my ox blood colored Porsche
I wore a shirt to match the color of my red Porsche car
The rims match of course
The wheels on my car also match the same color
Blood hit his Timbs it reminded me of them
When I saw blood on his boots, it reminded me of my own experiences
Glistenin' wrist on chiller
My watch is sparkling and reflective
Gun in the same palm of gorgeous killer
I am holding my gun in the same hand as my expensive watch
I put this on my lord my niece was 4 when she felt chinchilla
I swear to God, my niece was only four years old when she felt the soft fur of a chinchilla coat I owned
I past the shore for that shit that made fiends rise from the dead like Thriller
I went overseas to buy drugs that were so strong, they were like a zombie apocalypse
Gangster, hustler
I'm a true gangster and hustler
At night still found time to kiss my mother
Even though I'm always busy and involved in illegal activities, I still make time to show love to my mom
Live like I'm dreamin' kick my feet up
I feel like I am living a dream and I can relax and enjoy it
Gun pulled my waist remind me of my demon
My gun makes me feel powerful, like a demon
So quite ya yappin' fore I get to clappin'
Shut up and stop talking or I'll shoot you
And have your body parts mix and matching fella
I will shoot you so many times that your body parts will be scattered and unrecognizable
Aye, Aye, Aye, Aye, there it is nigga, there you have it
There you have it, that's how it is
VA you know
Shoutouts to Virginia
Uptown nigga, we go anywhere with this bullshit
No matter where we are, we bring our problems with us
We flip bricks you under-smell (gangster motherfucker)
We sell lots of drugs and you can't compete with us
Aye nigga put this puzzle together
Try to figure out what I'm saying
Aye Pharrell you did this year (you did it nigga)
Pharrell, you did a great job producing this song
A 1000 pieces puzzles (startrak) 100, you know
This is a complicated puzzle, but we're the ones who can solve it
Let's get this money (get the money)
Let's make lots of money
Hey nigga I smell somethin', coke'll leave plastic bitch
I smell drugs, and this will harm your body
Get money motherfucker
Make that money by any means necessary
However you want it you can get it pimp
I can sell drugs to you in any way you prefer
From gangster to blood nigga, take it how you want it nigga
Whether you're a gangster or a Blood, I can sell drugs to you
We did it how we live, ain't nothin' but the thug thing nigga
We made our money by being gangsters, and that's just how we live
Money thing motherfucker
At the end of the day, it's all about making money
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: BRYAN WILLIAMS, CHAD HUGO, PHARRELL L. WILLIAMS, GENE ELLIOT JR. THORNTON, TERRENCE LE VARR THORNTON
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Eden
My parents were a mixture. We had only wheat bread, lots of veggies and fruit, basically whatever sounded healthy… but we still had sugary cereal, pop tarts, pizza rolls, y’know.
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Yeah same?
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same lol. that kkinda sounds like all my friends parents when theuy were young
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My parents had regular bread also lot of vegetables and fruits but no sugary coral I had corn flakes and sometimes oatmeal. Occasionally my parents would buy soda and candy
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For a good 2 years of my life, my family only gave vegetables fruits and seeded bread. Whenever I went to parties everyone knew I was sugar deprived so I always got like 1 donut.
A simple moment I’ll never forget