[Intro - Lil Wayne] Turn the music down in my headphones, yeah That noise in the background, that’s my skateboard That nigga Mack crazy, yeah
[Verse 1 - Lil Wayne] I put my shooters on they feet I just give ‘em yo’ address and go to sleep The money turn my niggas into monsters The white done turned my niggas into Nazis, Lord The money turn my face into a stocking Don’t make me turn yo’ baby to a hostage, boy Don’t make me turn the kid to a foster My woman turn my dick into a Mazda, Lord Body parts in the duffel The bullets turn your body to a puzzle The money turn my bitch into a monster She know how to get a check and turn a 0 to a comma, Lord The money turn my niggas into killers The sugar turned the cocaine to vanilla The money turned the bitches into hoes The money turned my niggas into foes, Lord I put my shooters on they feet Give ‘em yo’ address then I go out to eat Had that Snowman in the hood like Jody Breeze She from the hood, but look like she from overseas I say: “girl, you know I love you and I care for ya I got some new shoes and a bag of hair for ya” She say: “fuck these other niggas, they ain’t half of ya Just keep laughing to the bank, it’s hilarious” I got a stay at home gun and a travel gun Boy, we can sell white in Africa It’s like I can’t explain, y’all asked me to spit Now I’m drooling on my chain, what happened to Wayne? I’m like: “hold up wait a second, y’all thought I was second?” Hating on a champ throwing salt and not confetti We pull up and we shoot, then we park the car and edit Watch me pull up with no roof, that’s cause I walk the dog and pet it I’m like: “hold up wait a minute, y’all thought I was finished?” Shoot you in your head then just walk off like I didn’t Let my money talk so much, put my jawbone outta business Doing numbers in this bitch, I’m like a smart phone with the digits, bitch Riding ’round with the volume down, with the windows up and the choppers down Soon as we get to yo’ block, it’s the motherfucking other way around My bitch say I’m too wild, she don’t even know why she stay around I get home and I dick her down, now she talking ’bout exchanging vows If these bullets was paint balls, I could fuck around and I could paint a house You could tell I’m pimpin’ the way I hit the blunt with my pinky out I bring Wine to Amy House, we smoke it out and we drank it out And talk about these pussy niggas that ain’t about what Wayne about I’m hanging out a Mulsanne without a brain, it’s outta its mind I pull over, I push a button, it change like Optimus Prime Speaking of change, it’s a shame how these lames dropping them dimes We aim at your grape, knock it off, now you just Vines Blood Gang red rain on these niggas, hot if you dry My gang top of the line hollering out: “squad take it outside” I’m a tax payer, I’m a Axe player Getting in through the back wayer Red double to the Blue collar, envelope black mail Fed up with the Fed shit and FedEx lost my package My white girls say: “yeah nigga”, my white homies act blackish Ain’t tall enough for the NBA, ain’t big enough for the NFL Should’ve been in N.W.A., fuck the police, 5-0 and 12 One time for your mind bitch, never say never mind bitch You a penny short of a dime bitch No nonsense, had a nine since I was nine bitch, yeah Born to murder, bank account on fat bustin’ out the girdle Tell ‘em boys ain’t nothing sweet, it’s sauerkraut ya heard me? They find ya body in New Orleans from Mardi Gras on Bourbon Like oh Lord, Humphrey Bogart It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a crowbar For the most part, I’m the southern coast guard AK47 spitting flame like a blow torch Sorry 4 The Wait WooTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
