[Intro: DJ Drama & Lil Wayne] I'ma just say this shit right here The greatest mixtape series of all time Care to debate me? Uh-uh-uh-mmm Yea, I thought so Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
[Verse] Keep that shit on Twitter Y'all ain't lit, y'all litter Keep that shit in your shitter Or eat that shit, don't spit up (Rrr!) Keep my bad bitch did up Keep my main bitch, put up Watchin' me do push-ups She was playin' with herself and I looked up (Damn!) Your thot need to get her look up You plottin' on me, my foot up Your squad ain't hard, that's cushion That ain't sauce, that's puddin' Tunechi across her bosom, damn! Shootin' up the jurors, damn! Don't name my pistol I name the trigger, Benjamin Button, push 'em (Bam!) Y'all just pussy, get buried together and let 'em play footsie Y'all just wussy I got some bullets, gon' pull up in hoodies and come take a look-see Better play hooky I got some hookers hookin' up with some politicans And some athletes and some college niggas Send your misses on all kind of missions I'm the sickest nigga skippin' doctors visits But my pots is pissy, smokin' hockey sticky Put a stockin' on my face and hit a lick in' When shit get ugly, I go Pretty Ricky I don't fuck with rats, neither Minnie, Micky I don't fuck with cops, that's the piggly wiggly Fuck my bitch's friends, and they friendly-friendly While your bitch givin' me her twenty-twenty like she tired of Mickey-D's Wendy's, Denny's like she tired of Macy's JC Penny's, I got bitches gettin' tired of spendin', spend it If we winnin', win it I know Dream Chasers that ain't never dreamt it So I had to tint it and I had to rim it And I worked the lanes like Shaq and Penny It's the Blood gang, it's the money gang Red rags to riches, need happy endings Then it's back to business and we laugh at sentencin' Hungry lawyers make a snack out witnesses Hungry artists or starvin' artists in the kitchen Restaurant and cafeterias Don't make a difference if you taste the difference Better pay the difference to the racketeers Now your good luck lookin' like you crackin' mirrors Now the artificial become sacrificial That's a body count, where the mathematician? Where the wettest clitoris and fattest nipples? With an ass that jiggle with a grab or tickle With a throat deep enough to land a missile If ya nigga miss you and he have opinions Tell him two cents is only half a nickel Now we at his villa, aiming at his pillows Hair triggers, fingers finna act like bristles And I catch a triple, flip kick jiu-jitsu Throwin' pool parties, she don't have a swimsuit Neither of her friends do, I think that's official Got my neighbor's eyes bigger than the Simpson's And her man is simple so I had to pimp her And she had potential but he lacked credentials So give me a sec', I'll go at your neck And send you back lookin' like the Dracula bit you (Rrr!) Yeah, cannibalism goin' animalistic in a land of civilians These niggas clones, copycats, and chameleons Once they dead and gone, no paraphernalia When she left her thong, that's paraphernalia Sound familiar? My plug's Sicilian He the one who told me that sometimes you gotta leave ya la familia Behind the millions Rhyme or reason I'm the reason, got they eyes wide but too blind to see it With friends like those It make me text all my enemies and tell 'em I don't need 'em Hallelujah, power intruders Bitch walk around my house like Hooters Towel user, power user Molly mixed with white girl, Molly Susan Niggas talkin' out their bowel movers Turn they homies into flower choosers Turn your kids into father choosers Make your bitch a widow and your mom a cougar I'm a silent shooter with a silent shooter Clap at you, if you don't die, I'll boo ya Tell a doc that's tryna to save your life and runnin' wires through you He could die next to ya (Rrr!) I'ma make the nurse ride me like a giant scooter Let her partner shoot it We pull out the movie, win awards She got a Golden Globe head and an Oscar booty Niggas prostitutin', these rappers ain't talkin' 'bout shit Not even 'bout pollution Ain't got a house to live in, ain't got a pool to swim in Change in their pockets, nor a couch to lose it In route to Houston with a contribution full of Monster juices Monster too slow, macho Cujo macho mucho Big bad wolf, watch the moon glow (Rrr!) I got a Greek freak, she call me Antetokounmpo Just follow the kupo and I know that you know I'm hotter than soup, she still swallow my soup bowl I'm out of my loophole, you outta the loop, though Got all these niggas on silent and mute mode The power to do so, my pockets is sumo Gettin' the mula by the minuto Mafia Nuvo, I am the uno Real boss nigga, should model for Hugo Fuck with me, I go Lolapaloozo Pull up trigger finger, holler, and pull up (Pah, pah, pah) Sound like a symphony or Opera, tudo Hittin' some new notes And I am the maestro and you just a typo Private flight, don't fly in too low I'm wiser than you know, a private school flow I got me a new ho and now it's a duo One went to college and one went to juco I had to ask 'em, what's four plus two though? (Rrr!)
[Outro] My ultimate basketball dream team starting five would most likely be umm, of course Imma have to start with Kobe Bryant, umm. This gone take a minute, umm, Chris Paul. Uhh, Shaquille O'Neal, LeBron James. And umm, oh you know I'm gon say Steph Curry. Steph Curry. You already know, thats my starting five. I got money on them. Holla at ya boyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
