Artist: DJ E-Feezy (Feat Lil Wayne)
Album: The Wolf Of South Beach
Year: 2015
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[Lil Wayne]
Uh, hit you with no delaying, so what you sayin’ yo?
Niggas ain’t paying, so I just been laying low
I’m all about famo like Marlin Brando
My bitch go commando, I’m in commander
I hit you with ammo, quick as a Lambo
I play with her pussy hole like flipping channels
And my bitches is too live like Luther Campbell
And I’m spitting this shit though like I chew tobacco
Shimmy shimmy ya shimmy yay
I’mma kick a nigga in his mouth, MMA
I’mma stick the semi in his mouth, kissy face
I’mma lose the weight in the drought, Ricki Lake
I’mma get the white and put it out, Em and Dre
I’mma fuck her sisters and her mom, Kim and Ye
They respect all my artistry like Hemingway
And they respect all of my martians, that’s why they give me space
Motherfucker I know you see what’s up in my hand, so what you sayin’ woe?
Cause I put yo’ fuckin’ brains all on the dashboard
You not in my fuckin’ lane you on the crash course
And if you feelin’ froggy, leap, I’m kidnapping yo’ tadpoles
I can’t remember the bitch name I fucked after my last show
When I say my cash low, I’m just telling a bad joke
Long hair, don’t care, no shirt like Fabio
Little nigga dreadlocks with a dick with an afro
Woo-hah, I got you all in check
I make her ooh-ah and now she on my breath
I’m with my Goombah, we ridin’ on your set
And we can shoot out till it’s quiet on the set
Boo ya like Stu Scott and peace, I pray he rest
Bitch I’m groundbreaking and I’m taking baby steps
I’m about to bust a rhyme, nod yo’ head and break ya neck
I’mma kill these motherfuckers, you ain’t dead? Fake ya death
I ain’t playing, I’mma hit you with no delaying and I ain’t paying hoe
I come through me and my woes looking like Camp Lo
This is it, what? Luchini falling from the sky
Let’s get rich, what? Boy I been rich since ’95
Where you been boy?
Money talks and I’m about to send a invoice to them boys
Yeah I’m tired of this bullshit, I’m wilding, I’m too lit
I aim at yo’ toothpick, leave yo’ brains in yo’ boo tits
Yeah, I’m tied up with feds, put some guap on yo’ head
Now they can’t find your body like a sock in the bed
This is it boy, you done dug yourself a hole
That’s a pit boy, that’s where I shit boy
Uh, type of a nigga that will slap you with the tooley-o
It ain’t about what you smoke, it’s about who you smoke
My homeboy Hoody yo, he real moody yo
I tell him no bullet folks, he still do it tho
They give you a funeral, you won’t be viewable
When Tunechi come through the door, them hoes get super soaked
Now do you really wanna party with me?
Let me see just what you got for me
Ay do you really wanna party with me? In squad we trust
Puffin’ on that stuff, eyes lower than Connie Chung
They don’t fuck with us cause they know that we not the ones
Boy we got them guns, scare the holy shit out the nuns
Yo it’s Young Money my nigga, you know we ’bout to bust
And everybody armed, more armed than Octopus
Write my name on my cups, so nigga know not to touch
Every time I bust a rhyme, another one bites the dust
Tunechi
[Outro – Lil Wayne]
Mula
Busa Buss, fuck with me
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