Lil Wayne - Trap House Lyrics

Artist: Lil Wayne
Mixtape: Sorry 4 The Wait 2
Year: 2015

[Lil Wayne]
Ooh, yeah Lil Tunechi got it jumping like Jordan
These pussy ass niggas can’t guard me
These rookie ass niggas still crawling
These looking ass niggas eye ballin’
These hooking ass bitches eye balling
But I got a bad bitch at home cooking dinner
Hi honey, I’m home, I’m starving
These crooked ass cops still winning
Black man family still mourning
Black president ain’t do nothing
We need a real nigga up in that office
Got the White House jumping like Jordan
Got the crack house jumping like Jordan
I want my new house bigger than Jordan’s
With a backyard bigger than a forest
Like “ooh”, bedroom jumping like Jordan
Hoes at the door and they arguing
This dick is a super star, they want stardom
My life like Bailey and Barnum’s
These bitches ain’t got no manners
These niggas ain’t got no standards
My bitch ain’t got no love handles
Boy I’m clipping that toe on that camel
I got bitches that will kill for me, Charles Manson
Suck this thuggish ruggish bone, swallow that bone marrow
Ooh, chopper sitting on my lap like the mall Santa
Nigga shoot you all in your gall bladder
Your pallbearers need pallbearers
I’m mixing weed like gumbo
I knock your head off, Rambo
Homeboys be cutthroat
That shit got me with a lump throat
But Tunechi bigger than Elvis Presley
Young Money was my best investment
Going harder than my predecessor
I don’t break records, I set the records
Lil Tunechi comin’ back like Kobe
Niggas stab me in the back, I owe ’em
Got a house on the hills
Now a nigga got a deal with mountain lions and coyote
See me? I keep that Semi, and friendly? I can’t be friendly
Freckles, them bullet holes look like freckles, you look like Wendy’s
Cops in the hills jumping like Jordan
I can’t swim, but I’m throwing pool parties
Got a bitch over there and a bitch over there
A young nigga starting to feel cornered
My L.A. house jumping like Jordan
My Miami house jumping like Jordan
Can’t forget about my house in New Orleans
So sorry for the wait, I’m sorry
I want my new bitch titties enormous
With a backyard and a pretty garden
With a pussy more pink than an orchid
Young nigga gonna treat her like a florist
I got my side bitch feeling important
I got my main bitch feeling immortal
I got my ex bitch feeling insulted
Cause wifey gettin’ money like Kimora
I got a fine bitch feeling exhausted
Cause I’mma put this dick on her till tomorrow
I’mma pull up on a bitch in a Gallardo
Then I’mma take the top off like a barber
I go down and kiss her Pearl Harbor
She’s so down with this New World Order
Fuck the shit outta her in a sauna
Sweat her hair out, she look like Al Sharpton
Got a goon named Fernando
At the front door of your condo
Knock-knock, who’s there?
He don’t care, he’s psycho
Bad bitch with a nice throat
She ice cold and she like hoes
Ooh, she just my type
These other hoes just typos
Young nigga coming back like Jordan
So sorry for the wait, I’m sorry
Yeah, a nigga had to go back to the stash
But a nigga stash like James Harden
Young nigga drink lean like water
Young nigga smoke weed like Marley
Young nigga on the moon like Warren
Young nigga on his shit like Charmin
My bitch got a rack like Dolly Parton
Fuck her all night to some Marvin
Fall asleep in the pussy, good Lordy
Woke up in a new Bugatti, good morning
Young nigga got guns, good luck
Nina Ross say: “me so horny”
Lil Tunechi at the top, it’s so lonely
Got fat pockets, never bony
I’m with a model bitch, she so bony
Got to shook shit up, it’s so phony
I just cooked this up, it’s still hot
You could still smell the kitchen on me
Nigga I have your homies singing: “damn, I miss my homie”
I got a mountain of weed
I got a mountain of cash
I got mountains like Wyoming
I got a bad bitch and she foreign
She always mad with me, I’m sorry
She say: “damn, why you can’t call me?”
Cause they be taxing for that roamin’
She a tan bitch, she orange
I can’t stand a snitch, an informant
Niggas cook crack on a Forman while y’all boys was still sparing, ohh
This that Sorry 4 The Wait 2
Tell the dead homies you pray to you’re on your way too
That the truth is hard to swallow, you got fake juice
Even Slick Rick the ruler know I break rules, ooh
Got the gas out shooting like Jordan
I put your homeboy face on a t-shirt
And put your own face on a milk carton
Busy, I’ve been so busy
Ain’t even got time for quickies
That’s why my bitch been so bitchy
I’m outchea tryin’ to get me
I’m coming back out jumping like I’m Jordan
I’m sorry for the wait, I’m tardy
I wrote a letter to my competition
It started off with dearly departed
Hippie I be so trippy
Give her pussy a hickey
I hope she ain’t strictly dickly
So we can menage to Nicki, ooh