Birdman - Championship Pop Bottles текст песни

{Chopper straight shots and then pop bottles} (ya) brrr
{Flirt wit the hood rats then pop models} (uh-huh) believe that
{Chopper straight shots and then pop bottles} (ya)
{Flirt wit the hood rats then pop models}
Okay we poppin champagne like we won a championship game
(Look like I got on a championship rings)
Cuz I ball hard (no bitch we ball harder)
I am the Birdman (and Im the JR)


Okay start with straight shots and then pop bottles
pour it on the models, shut up bitch swallow
If you cant swallow, shut up bitch gargle
Straight up out the water wite my mark jacob goggles
Im fresher than a mufucka, yea Im a mufucka
No I wouldn't take ya girl but I`ll sure take her tounge from her
Could it be love woman, like no other woman...oh,
Im sorry sweetheart, I thought you were my other woman


{start with straight shots and then pop bottles} (ya)
{Flirt wit the hood rats then pop models} (uh-huh)
{start with straight shots and then pop bottles} (ya)
{Flirt wit the hood rats then pop models}
Okay we poppin champagne like we won a championship game
(Look like I won a championship rings)
Cuz I ball hard (no bitch we ball harder)
I am the Birdman (and Im the JR)


Now as I recline behind my desk
I aint got a lot of nice but I got a lot of checks (money)

Got my own shoe brand new on the set
Went from sittin in the cell
To sittin on a jet
Went from shitting in a cell
To shitting on a jet
I lost too many friends but I won too many bets (too many bets)
I made too much money I aint made enough yet
So I scratch, and yes Junior is the best (shawty)
So many niggaz from my hood on they back
So many niggaz from ya hood on they back
Thats why we so paid and it be like that
I rather pop a bottle, befo I pop a gat




Yea, only sippin red champagne
White-tee red hat red bandana
Uptown, chopper fucks the pain
Fuckin wit the Birdman we choppin yo propane
Fuckin wit my son man we run up in ya mansion
Chopper make music, bitch start dancin
Stunt a man back so you know the circumstances
And Im cookin up the Carter 3 no advances (youngin)
All my cars automative automatic
No lie, we dont even drive no askin
Uptown we packin and we stackin (believe that)
Young Money Cash Money we the champion










Thanks to sugargoddess for these lyrics

Thanks to Kashmir DeLisle for correcting these lyrics