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Lil Wayne
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No Other
Yeah, straight up D-Boy! Seventeenth ward! Miss Katrina turned my city to a seashore I keep going for them Cohen like Lyor They gon' either respect me or:E.R Burnin' them bitches like a ci-gar Punk, put a hump in your back, they called it Igor! War? This shit is hard, any yard where we are We call that cocaine rice, I got that Condoleezza! Huh? You fuck with me chump, I rock your teacup I say before you spend a dollar boy, put up the re-up Yep! Get up cause we up, foot up and knee up In the game, put up and shut up, I hit your head up Or go bang; the Birdgang and the Birdman J Lil Wayne, here to hang, other words here to stay Feel my pain, Fireman, I spark in the rain I walk through the flames, yeah, all for the change, yeah Call it insane but I'm a hustler to the muscle And them new drop Bentleys look like pussy in the summer So I'm fucking that, hugging that, block like I'm loving that Never sell a crumb where my mother at! —run with that You can come at me for beef! —and shots come with that Your bitch come at me for wood! —and I'm the lumberjack! I come in that Similac Maybach, shades black Looking like I'm tryna bring Yay back, ASAP Give it to 'em raw, no Ajax, taste that Heh, fuck around and make your face crack I know niggas that, shoot dope, arms looking like a racetrack Nigga missed a vein in his neck, his whole face fat! You can't take that? Well I can't take back Where I come from so I learned how to make that Yeah, turn that straight to a G stack Stack up my cheese, now I'm screaming 'Where the keys at?'
I'm live from, block one, five-one, where my young 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 Niggas on the rise to get a name, don't try them —Wayne, I feel your pain and I see your stress How they think your people 'posed to get through Katrina off a FEMA check? Coke in the Pyrex; dope and the ice, yes; Mind on the highway, road signs, right, left And that's the mind-state of kids growin' up Still they wonder why the crime rate's goin up Throw it up: Eastside, Westside, Southside, Northside Fuck with my money I? Torch guys, off guys Hire men, fire men, send 'em to a higher man (there he go) Torture 'em: Vice grip, pliers man Niggas turn to tin foil when they see the iron man Pressure bust pipes, I apply it and Move like a lion through the jungle, yes! There is none higher than: Me Don't slip up and end wind up in the lion's den! Big body Benz idlin', higher than A chick that flight-attend or Air Force flyer man Bad bitches I fly 'em in, fuck 'em Send 'em back home hyped feeling like they on nit-ro-gen Just call me the Pied Piper man Still get the coke through the pipeline, then off to the piper stem And I'm still getting paper back in rubber bands I still got paper bags coming in I still got that mattress with the paper bags under it Comic books, Playboy baby mag under it, still! I still got ties with my guys who don't speak no English Them Vatos, they got those cheapest; Got no green card, got no visas, and got those Pablo features! They drop off and pick up; I pick up then drop off Then drop off what's picked up, and then what? I get it
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