Birdman

Birdman - Championship Pop Bottles lyrics

rate me

{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 J.R.)

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 J.R.)

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

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

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