Ymcmb Mmg Lyrics - Son Of A Gun - Cory Gunz

[Verse 1: Cory Gunz] 

Stare is blank when the trigger face 

Lil n***a with a bigger base 

Know me young homie? here's some money, you wonder now 

I'll make 2012 with a number dial 

Talking that s**t; dont know who they rapping with 

Pause, I say f**k em fast, rabbit d***s 

I turn the booth to a maggot pit 

She appear when I wave the David Banner wrist 

Gettin money, you b****s can't see me like my mother home 

She's b****n' her dog is back with another bone 

Hollar for a dollar, to swallow back 

I hit her right off of twitter, now follow that 

I'm booking face, my network is social 

Young Money, Cash Money, we coach who coach you 

Slow up them protools with them loco vocals 

What you know to, don't do, n***a 

I'm your go-tos, go-to 

Plot, once you try I approach you quiet with the toast too 

Fire, I will smoke you 

Tie, any man, bear hand choke you 

Silence is what I go to 

Violent, burner in the safe, burner in the car, and the plates, burner on the waist 

Find the burner and they solving the case 

Murder in the place, let is dissolve in his waist 

I don't give a f**k if your moms and all is in the play 

Get your pops, get popped, n***a pop off 

Get a drop, in the city chopped, get in knocked off 

Glock and it gettin hot, knock ya socks off 

Get clocked, when it tick, get tocked off 

Block n****s, by the block when its blocked off 

Swat looking for the yacht when is docked off 

In the spot where n****s plot to get bopped, pause 

And when the waps stop then ya top off 

[Verse 2: Meek Mill] 

YMCMB DoubleM G, you know me 

Old school flow like Kool Moe Dee 

Coastal flow, I move low key 

Make a move OT 

Get a brick for the low 

95 South get a chick that would go 

Every 36 let the b***h get an O 

I put it in the hood that b***h better snow 

In the middle of summer, do numbers 

N****s better run from us that, front us 

That Mac-10 with a drummer, they want us 

Tell them n****s run up, get done up 

When that automatic get clappin like Cory Gunz when he rapping 

That s**t be spitting so fast, and my n****s we platinum 

And I'm... on the way I'm going glow, I put my pressy on 

30 thou, like a got a Camero Chevy on 

I go loud around the neck give em a heavy one 

And n****s sleeping on me, guess I get my Freddy on 

Nightmare on you record labels 

I tell em put the dirty money on the other table 

You ever seen a 100 racks off fiend money 

That Martin Luther King, I had a dream money 

I can tell you n****s never seen money 

We sellin white girl, gettin Christine money 

Aguilera, I'm in the Panamera 

N****s whisper when I come through, I can barely hear em 

I know these n****s looking, I can't see em though 

My daddy in the grave, I make you meet em though 

They call me, mister "f**k a n***a" I don't need a ho 

Cause I got my paper up, its time to get my haters up 

I'm gone! 

B***h! 

I'm gone!