The Recipe lyrics

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If money talk, I'm talking loud...
You broke fools aint got shit to say
My eyes frozen, and my bitch bad
I'm smoking trees everyday
Got the gun in my hand like James Bond
Won't beef my ame. is A1
If I know you, I ain't talking it nigga
I only fuck with my day one...
So much ice I might my skate
Can't sing to a girl like Trey Songz
Bitch, better have my money
Anything short then she can get past on
It's Gucci now from downtown, knock off I can't do those
Pull up in that Aston Martin
Hop up with about two hoes.
My money long, your money short
Your Chevy, not a super sport
You Stuntin in that V6, that v12 come cho you up
If you can have my girl,then I dont want her back
You got money, we got bigger stacks
(That's right!)
You talk hundreds, we talk racks
For a few hundreds you're wig clat
Got the recipe and I'm selling it for a hundred racks
So when I sell it, I want it back
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Cause niggers' whack (roger that)

I got the recipe to this rap shit
And I'm selling it here for a hundred racks
Soon I sell it I want it back cause niggers' whack
(roger that)

You got a gun, I got a bigger gat
You talk money, I get that
My killers come push your wig back
Just two words...
Strap like im rambo but can call me urklo
Your girl gave me good brain,
that weed we smoke, it's purple!
naked bitches on ichat
..I fuck her ones, don't call her back
They talking money, don't chat
Yous niggers' whack (roger that)
Louis belt cost 600, Louis shoes 760
I don't know that girl name
She sucked me up and left quickly.

I got the recipe to this rap shit
And I'm selling it for a hundred racks
Soon I sell it I want it back cause niggers' whack
(roger that) (x2)

Thanks to Jkilla for correcting these lyrics