lyrics:

Brooklyn, uh, uh, uh, uh
Huh, huh, uh, huh, do it huh, yea
Uh, uh, do it huh,
huh, what y'all want huh


Rollin', gold two seater
Stash in the dash
Hold two heaters
Blockahhhhh put holes through beaters
Ghetto Fab stroll through Cheetahs
Ballin', Brooklyn don
Addicted to Cris' hooked on Dom
15 G's hookers on
Ma, I wanna see how you look in thongs
Hustlin', guys that send Po's
'Cause I chop rocks the size of mentos
Blame me, I tried to hint hoes
Look at the hurt your eyes will squint closed
Pimpin' here's a new way to flirt
Listen to the two way alert
It goes...
Let's go VIP boo raise your skirt


Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)


I'm Gangsta
Y'all just wannabes
Federal Agents on their P's
30 a gram 28 on the keys
Gotta good lawyer I'm gonna squeeze
Thuggin' jeans and Tim's
Fitted to the front lean the brim
Ride but never on teenage rims
And I keep a chick's face between my limbs
Stylin' y'all heard about my kick game
I'm on the parkway, see me at the Knick game
Probably seen this tatted on your chick frame
F-A-B-O-L-O-U-S
Ridin' y'all know as well I do
That's the way you can tell I flew
So I got a deal I sell pies too
'Cause before I hit the pens
I'm gettin' bailed by Clue


Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)


Cruisin' top on the Mercedes low
Turn us up when you hear this on the radio
Blastin' with the nineteen eighty flow
Make the necks on the ladies go (Wooo-wooop)
Holla that's what a pretty thug will do
Hit Branson get a fifty jug or two
Y'all throwin' on them gritty mugs for who
Like y'all don't know what fifty slugs will do
Hatin' I just bought the uz'
I put y'all in the front page articles
I got 'em lookin'
at the billboard charts confused
And I still freestyle to start the Clue's
Reppin' I'm that kid about the doe
I done copped coke and started droughts before
Shit Platinum out the door
Now I drop the top down just to shout to hoes


Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back Young'n (Hoooo-hoooo!)
Holla back, back, back, back...
(Hoooo-Hoooo!)
(Hoooo-Hoooo!)
(Hoooo-Hoooo!)
(Hoooo-Hoooo!)
(Hoooo-Hoooo!)

I do not own anything.
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