Yeah Yeah - 504 Boyz, Master P

Yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah

Yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah

Check my status, then check my name

You want to win give me the ball, the last play of the game

Cause I’m a big time baller, shot caller

From Uptown, got a house and a quarter

You wanna fight me, then bite me

Stop tripping cause your baby mama like me

We roll Benzes, Beamers, Ferraris

Then we smoked out our band new parlay

I’m like Randy Moss, throw me a pass

I’m like Belvin Davis, bout to bust your ass

Call me Austin Powers, cause I leave you groovy

I ain’t R. Kelly, don’t make no movies

But I’ll freak you, won’t beat you

You buck then I’ll be the preacher

We in it, we winning

They can’t stop the New No Limit

You wanna be me, we off the heezy

Catch me on the block, black V-Tweezy

You see the rims spinning, yeah we still winning

Who we be, the New No Limit

Fresh out the hood daddy, look at the wood daddy

You see the neck you see the wrist, that’s mad karats

Dog I’m past average, my lifestyle’s lavish

Ya’ll can keep the hood, I’m bout to jump it off in Paris

I got a lot of habits, love stacking cabbage

You ain’t no where near my level son, don’t get embarrassed

We push the hottest whips, we on that baller shit

We cop our jewels like rat, give me all of this

Bout that foolishness, bitch like a Jewish kid

I’m that dude in the club, with the bluest wrist

My whole crew is thick, you can not fool with this

I’m bout my paper, and I don’t plan on losing it

Hey yo it’s still me Young Blaze, still in the mix

You could catch me in a six lil one, still in the bricks

In that 5−0-4 flip it, drop the O

And you left with that four-fifth, cocked at your do'

I’m country so I talk slow, walk even slower

Sip henny in a pickle jar, chickens in a Rover

Yes sir, got Seawoodson’s on the truck grinning

Like if I could stop blinking, maybe they could stop spinning