*featuring Big Tymers
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It's gravy nigga. Believe it.
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You hot? Fuck it. Hot as a firecracker.
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(It's gravy too.) I got a mac in this bag.
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(click clock) What you got? Glock. (Look)
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[Baby]
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Nigga I'ma tell ya straight off the bat
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I got a mac in this bag with 20 grams of crack
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And I'ma sit in the back seat of yo' 'Lac
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Just in case I gotta snap, a firette to the chest
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If I don't know shit, I know cars and broads
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I done ordered plenty hits and watched heads come off
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And I done saw my nigga get life behind them bars
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To them dog hoes, nigga, we scream "fuck 'em all!"
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I hustle hard in these city streets
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I got my block on fire with my HB's
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Spinnin' Benz in these drop tops double r
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Cook a brick, flip 'em up, now I got 'em hard
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And you can find me
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Right up in them hallways, holdin' and totin'
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Got the whole motherfuckin block loaded and smokin'
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Nigga know one thang: its some uptown shit
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If a nigga get it fucked, then we killin' a bitch
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[Chorus]
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Nigga I'ma tell ya this, straight off the bat
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I got a mac in this bag, with 20 grams of crack
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Well let's go nigga, see we can slide nigga
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Cuz if you hot, then I'm hot, let's ride nigga
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Look, I'ma tell you this, straight off the top
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I got a blunt, and a glock, and a bag of rocks
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Let's go nigga, let's slide nigga
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If you hot, then I'm hot, let's ride nigga
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[Lil Wayne]
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Better pay attention now so you don't forget later
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I run the damn block, I oversee all of the paper
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Don't make me take ya, play ya
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I cock the glock and spray ya
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Call it a caper, won't be no as-salama-laka
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And J, he got the gauges, they cocked and ready
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Make me run up in ya places and pop ya daddy
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Got them bricks rocked and heavy, let it be known
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I cook it hard and cut 'em in zones and the money be gone
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Then I hit a blunt to the dome, and ride when night falls
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Supply the white raw, if there's a problem, knock ya wife off
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Lock the spot down
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Respect it young nigga, I'm creepin' over
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Now cut it with just a little bakin' soda, breakin' boulders
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I take it out my holster and bakin' soldiers whenever
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Nigga it's whatever, tell ya ma to call the reverend
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You see me on the block with crack, gats, and weed
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Rats, plats, and ki's, that's practically me
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[Chorus]
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[Lil Wayne]
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See I'm a hustler, cut-throat, put rhymes in mom's muffler
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You can't even count how many times the 9's bust at ya
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Some of the, niggas that you run with are, suckas bruh
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None of ya, won't leave, without some bullets up in ya
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Niggas can't hold me down, wodie wild
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Cuz all that they can hear is loud screamin' and explosive sounds
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They show me how to cook that brown and rock that white
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No school, put that book back down, pick up that knife
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See that's the real reason I hate to be on tour
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I'd rather be back on the block with a bird of that pure
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Niggas got it all wrong, thinkin' I'm all song
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But yall gon' twist it and end up all gone
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Dog-gone cocksuckers, you not thuggers
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I pop dozens of glocks, cousins, in my struggle
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So stop frontin', it ain't gon' get ya everywhere
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I'ma start bustin', and bullets hit ya everywhere
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[Chorus x 2]
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[Baby talks till end]
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Let's Go
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| Lil' Wayne |
