Cake Lyrics

Max B:
Gain Greene, UpNorth Records
Max Biggavel', T.P.
Oh this big pimpin' baby

Verse 1
Max B:
5-Star telle?, fuck that, I don't need that shit
Short stay, never did the foreplay
Never kiss a bitch nowadays kuz it's risky
Groupies after shows, screamin' "Bigga, pick me"
Gimme dick B, I can come to court, why you on your trial, just stay
I can hold the .4 while you roll around
It's been a minute baby girl since we last fought
You was third string, and I was down with Byrdgang
Now I'm a Gain Greene Boss in my element
Pimp the younger bitches for the hell of it, Bigga sellin' it
Goddamn, these bitches be on me
Daddy I luv the stay, don't ever leave me lonely
Only nigga at the slumber party in a bathrobe
No draws under, I'm Big Brutha Thunda
Baby I wonder, why ya bed so good
Why ya head so good, good, (uh)
Baby I wonder

Hook
Max B:
We wake up and fuck every morning
And money got a nigga feeling good
I cops me plenty dick sucks when I'm tourin', ohhhh
Kuz pussy got a nigga feeling good, girrrrrrrlll

Verse 2
French Montana:
Baby I could help you hit the top, put ya mind to it
You know I make magic happen like Rashard Lewis
And she know that, ya know I luv my niggaz but where the hoes at
Get me in the mood, we'll get you in the groove
Montana baby, we got the city lock
Willie Hutch, crunch time, hit the clutch, and shorty know it
They know my pimp game like a poem
Harmonize in ya ear, chain ice crystal clearMax B - Cake - http://motolyrics.com/max-b/cake-lyrics.html
You ain't hear nuthin' this hot, a long while
About to tilt the world, my nigga gon' get off trial
Somehow, always find a way out the crack hole
Try to take it easy, tryna stay out that black hole
Tie black, hot city banger, E, duffle bags Young Los
Coke Wave Gang homie plus many more
We fuck plenty whores
I ain't wanna finish his career, he was beggin' for it

Hook
Max B:
We wake up and fuck every morning
And money got a nigga feeling good
I cops me plenty dick sucks when I'm tourin', ohhhh
Kuz pussy got a nigga feeling good, girrrrrrrlll

Verse 3
T.P.:
The boy gets lots of pape, scoop ya bitch, be on my way
Hold ya lips, the clips'll spray, bullets in and out the K
I ain't got time to play, stash is safe to flip a case
Call my place the Pussy Place, got a few in your state
I made the way for brighter days, my mind is on a disarray
For Dom I lay Dolce, Gucci shoes, they stingray
Watch as Max swim away, I think God blessed me with some haze
Endowed wit' a lotta game and neither one you gotta blame
Get this that girl time, wish me death if I'm lying
Sleepin' with the enemy, she can't be no friend to me
Know you need more her clothes, daddy need a Bentley
Girl we can do this fast, forget ya pass, make it last
Smile and flirt, work ya hips, show some tits, pop ya ass
Blow a kiss at every car, show 'em you a track star
Pimps and hoes, to black cards, money never runs out
Recession proof, never drought, infinite cash routes

Hook
Max B:
We wake up and fuck every morning
And money got a nigga feeling good
I cops me plenty dick sucks when I'm tourin', ohhhh
Kuz pussy got a nigga feeling good