Big Homie lyrics

[Intro: Puff Daddy]
Don't be afraid to get old, man
You may learn some sh*t
You may know some sh*t
You may see some sh*t
Haha
b*tch showed me how it's old
I had to tell her

[Chorus: Puff Daddy]
You could go to any hood, bet they know me
Rose gold pinky ring; matchin' Rollie
Boy, you'se a little n*gga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie
Big homie, big homie, big homie, big homie
Boy, you'se a little n*gga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie

[Verse 1: Puff Daddy]
I'm winnin' for the new b*tch, she was stunting
That pus*y got a paper tag and it's a hundred
My bellman call me Sir Combs, I'm Richard Drummond
My Rolls Royce spray cologne, the fragrance money
It's Bad Boy Records, b*tch, you know I run it
CÎROC Amaretto coming, them b*tches love it
I show up with my jewelry on and never doubt it
You show up with your jewelry on and leave without it
[Chorus: Puff Daddy]
You could go to any hood, bet they know me
Rose gold pinky ring; matchin' Rollie
Boy, you'se a little n*gga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie
Big homie, big homie, big homie, big homie
Boy, you'se a little n*gga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie

[Verse 2: Puff Daddy]
Diddy go to any hood, big Rollie
Top down on any block, n*ggas know me
The only one that's topping Forbes, I'm gettin' lonely
See us out here racing yachts like ''f*ck the police''
Bugatti swerving lane to lane, we gettin' money
Once promoter say my name, fly b*tches coming
These ratchet b*tches love a n*gga so cuff your chick in
More '80s than the '80s, n*gga, I'm Money Mitchin
I'm money Mitchin

[Chorus: Puff Daddy]
You could go to any hood, bet they know me
Rose gold pinky ring; matchin' Rollie
Boy, you'se a little n*gga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie
Big homie, big homie, big homie, big homie
Boy, you'se a little n*gga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie
[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
My b*tches get the Christians, n*gga, and Giuseppe
My b*tches get the Birkin, n*gga, they hold the weapons
My b*tches get the Range Rovers, that's for affection
My b*tches get the realest n*gga, she's my reflection
I make my b*tches traffic dope, that's my profession
She swallow dope and looking pregnant, time for C-section
They count your pockets where I'm from, hit block, they bless us
50 mill a meter drum, go get them stretchers
Get them stretchers

[Chorus: Puff Daddy]
You could go any hood, bet they know me
Rose gold pinky ring; matchin' Rollie
Boy, you'se a little n*gga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie
Big homie, big homie, big homie, big homie
Boy, you'se a little n*gga; Gary Coleman
I be calling all the shots, I'm big homie

[Outro: French Montanna & Puff Daddy]
Big homie
Big homie
Big homie
Big homie
I'll be calling all the shots, I'm big homie
Hannn