All I Do Is Win Lyrics - Bun B

(Young Cash - Intro) 

Young Cash 

Brick Squad! 

We started this brick shit nigga! 

(Chorus) 

All I do is win, win, win, no matter what 

Young niggas from the hood and we don't give a fuck 

And every time we hop out wit' them choppas 

Everybody hands go up, and they stay there 

They better stay there, they better stay there 

Lay down, lay down, lay down 

'Cause all I do is win, win, win 

It started in the hood so that's where it begins 

Let 'em stay there 

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(Young Cash) 

I got so much swag, I stick out like a shark's fin 

You swimmin' in my water, I'm 'bout to let them sharks in 

Real niggas in my circle, and I don't let no marks in 

I preach to the streets, call me the young Al Sharpton 

I know what coke I need, hit the streets with my nig' 

I rob ya for ya bricks, I don't give a fuck like F.E.M.A. 

Me and Hin off in the Beamer, that 745 

Brick Squad right behind, they got seven .45's 

(Yo Gotti) 

All I do is win, I'm Gotti the brawn G 

I'm the M.V.P., I got championship chains 

Triple double on these niggas 

Ten blocks and twelve steals 

Fifteen a six, tell me that I ain't real 

Other words that's ten birds, and I jack a nigga for twelve 

Get bread wit' my homeboys 'cause I'm a team player 

Like the A-Team, nigga this the Yay Team, big work nigga 

They should wear it on my flat screen 

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(Gudda Gudda) 

Okay, all I do is win, no need for another option 

Fly like the wind, they nicknamed me helipcopter 

I don't sip gin, my cup fulla that purple shit 

All real niggas 'round me, no Urkel shit 

I ain't tryna talk, if it ain't money what's the purpose? 

If it don't make dollars and cents, it ain't worth it bitch 

Alotta clowns in this rap game on that circus shit 

While I proceed to win and shake the game like (?) 

It's Gudda 

(Chorus) 

(Bun B) 

We up in Harlem on some rock 

Diddy poppin' in my Sean John 

Tryna send these young kings home like they Bron Bron 

I rep this arm strong, cold, get your long John 

Whip game proper, I got that off white (?) 

Fourth quarter, fourth down, four seconds on the clock 

Mothafuck a huddle nigga, just give me the fuckin' rock 

Goin' up the middle, and I don't need a fuckin' block 

Touchdown, the South win, bitch get off the fuckin' jock 

(Iceberg) 

Iceberg nigga! 

And if you don't know me you can call me Billion 

That 'Maro on them four Gaidos 

And I don't got them Asanti's spinnin' 

I specialize in packin' dro in grey clutches 

And when it come to hoe niggas, I be face thumpin' 

And in Dade County we flop niggas with dummy bricks 

And quick to cop them real chickens wit' that counterfeit 

And if we don't know ya we touch ya 

If you buck we bustin' 

Then throw it up in the club for the fuck of it 

It's 'Berg 

(Tity Boi) 

Yeah, it's Tity Boi, they call me 2 Chainz 

If I die, bury me inside this blue flame 

You know what it is, Louis on my shoestrings 

I make ya girl get loose for the loose change 

Chandelier on my neck, black and white like a panda bear 

This is not a 911, this a Panamera 

Everybody starin', tryna see what I'm wearin' 

From the era, where M.O.B. mean money only better 

(Chorus) 

(T-Pain) 

Okay, Pizzle! 

Ehem 

Ladies and gentleman, the South is in the fuckin' spot 

It ain't no sleepin' on me dawg, I ain't a fuckin' cot 

I'm rude to every bitch, hoe is you gon' fuck or not? 

Especially white whores, yeah, gargle this fuckin' cock 

They say, "Pain why you ain't on the first "All I Do Is Win"? 

And I say, "I am stupid, I'm just here to get paid again." 

I went and got the Field Mob niggas and made 'em friends 

And I Fleetwood Mac and Chevy P you may begin 

(Chevy P) 

What up dum-dum? 

Ya better run um 

Comin' wit' my hundred round drum for the trunk punk 

Quit runnin', go fast, like the runna done 

Put holes through yo' Hilfiger, wit' my Tommy gun 

So jack and be nimble, and jack and be quick 

Or I'ma light yo' ass up like a candle stick 

Like Erv Gotti, I'm ridin' on Asanti's, now that I'm on 

Chevy sit so high I can give E.T. a ride home 

(Chorus)