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Big Timer Lyrics - Singles - Fiend

Chorus [fiend]: x 2 

Whoa there, big timer, big timer 

I got money to the ceiling 

Whoa there, big timer 

Won't 'cha, make your money and do what ya wanna 

 

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[mia x] 

Let the champagne glasses, cashes, comin out the ass 

Drinks for everybody, biggest mama stickin up the tab (mama mia) 

Don't even ask if I could handle it 

Bitch you didn't know I'm stackin ends like the clampets (there it is) 

Down south hustlin, workin my musc-lin 

Mint greens labeled in God we trust'n 

Bustin at the haters in the way of progress 

Cause I ain't tryin to live from month to month (naw) that's stress 

I only want the best that there is off the top 

But I ain't bout to brag about the shit I don't got 

So when you see the e4-20 know that it's mine, paid out in full 

So I put it in my rhyme 

Thirty two hundred square foot, no doubt 

Manicured landscape, and this my house 

Paid out too, so I know I got the room 

To state the fact that them hoes don't like that 

But fuck that big timers put your knot in the air 

And cock your nine for them jackers out there 

Live your life, boy 

 

Photos 

 

Chorus x 2 

 

[fiend] 

I be crackin like chiropractors 

Fiend the young bachelor 

That's too many muthafuckin million dollars, what I'm after 

Meal ticket stash-a from brick flippin plaster 

Now forever paid with mama mia and the master 

I cause disasters from the s's to the g 

No clubs won't start without the presense of me 

Ya better ask somebody, my cake give knee chills 

Givin migraine headaches from breakin these bills 

See these chills but can't get to it, we way out 

Every (? ) that I drive on chrome, is paid out 

Close to the house on the hill, but no wife 

Take the diamonds out my rol, your house have no light 

The more ice, I'm wicked you're sick, and just piss ya 

Might take a long line, the dance floor on whispers 

 

Chorus x 2 

Writer: , ,

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