Mr. 17.5 Lyrics - Young Jeezy

(AYYYEE, AY, AY, AYYEE...) 

(Verse 1: Young Jeezy) 

New shoes on the range rover, good one man (vrrooomm) 

Motherf**kers acting like I aint' supposed to shine 

I aint' the 1, definately not the 2 (nope) 

1 in the chamber when we aming at you (Blaou) 

The young Bob Barker, the price is right 

If you C.O.D. then you could get them tonight 

Put the fish scale on the scale 

If Roy went postal, all he do is check mail (HA HA) 

Low key, under the radar 

Tripple black 'Vet, yeah I call it the stealth 

No currency machine, I could count it myself 

Almost done, another quarter million in ones 

Thunder storm in the body-tap, look what I've done 

Chump change, I make it rain for fun (wussup) 

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(Chorus: Young Jeezy) 

Snow man, get cha' hands up high 

It's ya' boy, Mr. 17-5 

I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots 

Snow man, get cha' hands up high 

It's ya' boy, Mr. 17-5 

I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots 

(Verse 2: Young Jeezy) 

I get them bars out of the back of my mind (that's how) 

I reminisce like Mary J 

Even in the drought, the boy kept that yay 

100 percent served, Snowman's word 

You can play my thug and my clientele (why) 

I'm addicted to that new car smell 

White cookies in a plastic bag 

New shoes on the coupe with the paper tag 

Whole life flash right before your eyes 

See the state troopers and get butterflies 

Got a thing for them Heckler and Koches 

A minute 14 and Rolex watches 

Photos 

Somewhere in the back of my secret deranged brain 

I get a rush when I tote that 'cane 

Get money, Nigga f**k them haters 

All we fear is the discovery and Inditement papers (wussup) 

(Chorus: Young Jeezy) 

Snow man, get cha' hands up high 

It's ya' boy, Mr. 17-5 

I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots 

Snow man, get cha' hands up high 

It's ya' boy, Mr. 17-5 

I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots 

(Verse 3: Young Jeezy) 

I'm a grown ass man, I stand on my own two 

200, 000 cash, yeah, I'm buying my own team 

Right to your front door, operation so sweet 

I like little dude who keeps his money so neat 

But I still bury a nigga 

Put The Mask on, Jim Carey a nigga (Blaou) 

Swede ends in the Chevy, got me feelin akward 

Careful with the sweets, dont burn my seats 

You could live your whole life and not come close 

Guess thats why these rap niggaz take notes 

Rectite my adlibs, borrow my quotes 

Make me Ihop a nigga, serve them with the toast 

Next, they be dressing like me 

But back in '93, they wasn't stressing like me (wussup) 

(Chorus: Young Jeezy) 

Snow man, get cha' hands up high 

It's ya' boy, Mr. 17-5 

I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots 

Snow man, get cha' hands up high 

It's ya' boy, Mr. 17-5 

I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen, back to the pots 

(beat fade)