Lyrics:
its levels to this shit
Lil nigga 'cause its levels to this shit
Oh lord
'Cause its levels to this shit, levels to this shit
Can't fuck my ho 'cause
its levels to this shit
Lil nigga cause its levels to this shit
Oh lord
Cause its levels to this shit, levels to this shit
Can't fuck my ho cause its
a Chevy on my wrist
Cocaine Mulsanne, young nigga blowing up - Kurt Cobain
Skating on them like I'm Lil Wayne
And this 458 don't do the lil lane - vroom
a Chevy on my wrist
Cocaine Mulsanne, young nigga blowing up - Kurt Cobain
Skating on them like I'm Lil Wayne
And this 458 don't do the lil lane - vroom
fuck segregation
Fuck that shit, my money up, you niggas just Honey Nut
Young Money running shit and you niggas just runner-ups
I don't feel I done
His mama named him Dante
His pops called him Lil Dee
Growing up they ain't have it
Pops making plays in the streets
I'm talking six feet deep why my
lil Wayne
Putting blue racks on his head just like bulma
Mask up tryna beef with corona
KD on my wood you can smell the aroma
Can't smoke on that boy
this family and my momma, too
But please brah, won't ya come back for Lil Wayne
And see Cita, Mrs. Rose, Sheryl, Kemp and plus Sinetra
Dog, we really
name
I can't hear you say it louder what (Wayne, Wayne)
A damn shame
Better watch that boy he nasty
I strap on a plastic
Break ya off like
Ye yeah on God, haha, on God
I said that I'm stepping, on God
C'mon (Skai) ye yeah, yeah
I can't feel my face (Ooh, ooh)
Yeah, I can't feel my face
[Swiss Beats] Money, cars, clothes, hoes [x2]
I'm from the ghetto so gimmie my money
[Lil Wayne] Mr Angel on the beat
Young mula baby, and the devil
done with this - you feel me?
And then I'ma sic my son on y'all, ya heard me?
[Master P]
Real niggaz see through these fakers so it's time to expose 'em
a smirk off my face if he can't make me bleed
Please you fool me once that's on me try that shit once again nigga fuck your please
Rollin' through
marathons, not a hundred-meter race
So, I'm here's for a while, and they can't catch-up to my pace
So, they calling me a real sicko, Ill negro
Still, people
sick, my face might turn green
How can you ever be the best
In the scene when you're
Still tryna make a better tune
Than Fuckin' Widda Team
You don't
I can't fuck these niggas they bitch made
Imma up with the glick and knock off his temp fade
I got a lil joint and she smoking a jay
Imma pull on her
like i'm Lil Wayne
Wait
I'm making tunes there ain't no need to complicate
Got me up at fucking noon
Still finding time to push the weight
I got my own
Spent a long time waiting and waiting
Feel everybody be testing my patience
Chops in the basement of the vacant
When I'm saying the truth, they think
to me
Then she shoot over to my house
I scoot over in a bed
I shoot off in her mouth then
She bit the bullet uh
Skatin on em like I’m Lil Wayne
Better get out the way let my clique come through
You heard me
Chorus: [B.G. & Lil' Wayne]
Come around the wrong spot you will get shot
We make you drop
Mistakes in your props? (You feel me?)
Might as well push cake 'cause you won't go shop
Everyday I shop
And I know you get high 'cause you can't face
Weezy
Feel like a martian been riding to C3
Don't feel alive she been dying to see me
Lie after lie after lie don't believe it
Can't hold no water you
knows, you gone die by him
I know you heard gun stories about John Wayne and Billy the Kid
Shit, all them motherfuckers dead
And did you know that every
know I been a dog
I can't help it if soon as I get it I hog
Kobe when he used to ball
Thought I would switch up my drive
Cuz the lane a lil clogged
Guess
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