BirdMan Lyrics – Veeze

Read the full BirdMan lyrics by Veeze from the album Y’all Won along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Veeze’s music, you can also explore Lose it all today and Kount Ya Hat, two other songs by Veeze.

[Verse 1]
Free my lil’ brother
Feel like he just went platinum and now he in the federal prison
I’ma keep trapping right now, I’m getting close to the million
By the time that you’re home, I got ten of ’em
Police the Maybach, it don’t got the stars on the ceiling
Riding four deep and we all got the switches
I’m (??), I got brothers in Memphis
You tryna go broke, I’m tryna prevent it
I’m done doing dirt, I’m cleaning my nail tips
Welcome to the trap, n!gga, how can I help you?
Stirring up the bowl like Hamburger Helper
Ball like Mamba, I don’t fu*k with thе Celtics
Gotta get money, I’m allеrgic to (??)
I don’t buy Tris, I don’t fu*k with that medicine
Main you the pack, better ship it and handle it
I wonder if God ever forgave this much sinning
I guess I’m going to Hell then
It cost two-thousand just for me to pull up my pants legs
Nobody treat me like a regular human
I’m mixing the Perky up with the Xan
Everyday that I wake up, this s*it feeling fake, dog, I’m really a living legend

[Chorus]
But I’ma get money regardless
They know I’m a beast, but I’m humble
I could make that b!tch do what I want
I feel like Birdman, I’m a stunna
I was counting, ignoring the gossip
In the hills, I’m surrounded by shottas
Put it on, I look just like a model, yeah
But I ain’t no role model

[Post-Chorus]
Can’t lie, young n!gga blessed
Got too much, gotta give some
Millions start to seem too easy now

Got my eyes on the billions
Pouring up the cup when I’m stressed out
Thousand dollar kicks when I’m chilling
S*it, my stash laying eggs now
Now I got too much chicken

[Verse 2]
I needed my best
He signed for his soul, he in debt
You let the fame get to your head
My heart is so cold like an igloo
I’m bigger, they know me in Belgium
I’m grinding, I could go to Paris
I could’ve went for the experience
But I wanna do my own (??)

[Chorus]
But I’ma get money regardless
I could make that b!tch fu*k my lil’ brother
You got money, they do what you wanna
Birdman, I’m a certified stunna
I was counting up the money, no gossip
In the trenches, I just hang with all shottas
Put it on me, look like a model, yeah
But I’m not a role model, no, no

[Post-Chorus]
Can’t lie, young n!gga blessed
Got too much, gotta give some
Millions start to seem too easy now
Got my eyes on the billions
Pouring up the cup when I’m stressed out
Thousand dollar kicks when I’m chilling
S*it, my stash laying eggs now
Now I got too much chicken