Artist: Lil Wayne
Album: –
Year: 2015
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[Verse 1 – Lil Wayne]
Ummm, let me see
Smoke, sex, skate, shoot
Boy we turned up like breaking news
Let the kids live, baby do
Blood all in the fuckin’ baby food
The cradle too, shoot the dog once
Turn around, tell the kids: “stay in school”
Leave out the house, neighbors peekin’ out the windows
Showed the pistol to the neighbors and the neighbors… move
I don’t give a fuck about a niggas caregiver
I be with them niggas that will fuck their stepsister
I be with them niggas that will kill your caregiver
I’ll do Brazilian wax on a hair trigger
Hold up
Lord I think I need a hitman
Tell Biggie I’m a big fan
My pockets on Biggie Smalls
Your pockets on stickman
I just came from the gun store
I swear I spent about 10 grand
Got ya parents wearin’ black clothes
And got your homies wearin’ shit bags
Think I need a hitman
‘Bout to go kidnap a rich man
If he don’t give it up we chop him up
And send his body parts to his house gift wrapped
I think I need a hitman
I can’t trust the next man
Thank Lord for my weed man
But right now we’re playin’ phone tag
I’m doin’ 40 down the boulevard
I told my homie he gon’ take the charge
He got the Tommy and I got the MAC
And on your head they got a contract
I thank you for my hitman
And tell Pac I’m a big fan
I sing “Dear Mama” to my dear mama
And sing “Hit ‘Em Up” to my daddy’s bitch ass
Wooo, I thank you for my hitman
‘Bout to go kidnap the big man
As you can see I got big plans
Big plans to be the big man
Hey, 40 down the boulevard
With my homies, they gon’ take the charge
Say: “it’s nothin’ boy, I got your back”
Because them other niggas copy cats
I thank you for my hitman
This for all my fans that been fans
I’m so sorry, I’m so fuckin’ sorry
I’m so sorry for the wait like Slim Fast
Stick MDMA up a bitch ass
AT&T; ass, tongue, and tit man
Ohhhh, oh shit man
Your pockets on stickman
[Verse 2 – Lil Wayne]
It talk like a killer, it walk like a killer
It must be a killer, I must be a killer
Hustlin’ Priscilla straight out of the villa
I got more customers shoppin’ at Dillards
Don’t fuck with these niggas, I don’t know their names
Fuck these niggas, I don’t give a damn
Fuckin’ with Wayne, talkin’ to Wayne
Talkin’ to Wayne is like talkin’ to flame
225 for a brick in the drought
You can’t buy the chicken then please chicken out
Boy if you snitchin’ we will sniff it out
You’ll get found at your house with your dick in your mouth
Dope skinny ass sweats
Got a strap, wear that bitch on my back
I walk in the mall with that shit on my back
With my bitch hollerin’ ’bout: “I want this, I want that”
Ooh, mula
Like oh la, la, la, la
Too much Cubana up in me cabana
Too much white china and Columbiana
That Columbiana, Zoe Saldana
Fuck, hold up
I’ll be right back, keep the lights on baby
Leave the lights on baby
Them niggas play, they’ll get wiped off baby
Like Lysol baby
I pull up on a bitch wearin’ one .38
Put a bitch nigga on First 48
Fuck a bad bitch in the first 24
She take off all her clothes, say she sorry for the wait
Put her legs on a nigga like a hula hoop
I go between her legs like we shootin’ hoops
I break a chicken down to some noodle soup
I buy a Rolls Royce like a Subaru
I buy a Rolls Royce like a Subaru bitch
[Verse 3 – Lil Wayne]
I got ’em
Wait bitch, I’ve been on
Top of my shit, I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout shit
All this lean in my punch got me lickin’ my motherfuckin’ fist
Lord please don’t let my ice melt
Boy fuck these dog hoes
Put this .9 on my right leg
Times get hard nigga, I could sell crack to a white egg
Sell wrong to a right end
Nigga it’s Carter time and niggas horrified
It’s get glorified in this bitch
Prioritized and immortalized
I’m on the borderline and it’s thin
Hold up, I’m lightheaded like a kite baby
I might maybe get life baby
My light shady, my rice gravy
My nights daily, my life’s crazy
Lil Tunechi bitch
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