Feel Me

So, Lil Wayne, wht's your motivation? Is that really a question? (Yeah, shorty) Do you really have that written down in your notepad? (You already) You should be ashamed of yourself (C2) You smell me, girl, I smell like money (why not? What's better?) See, that's what they don't understand (not a goddamn thing) To me, it was always get money or die (yeah) I come up under Birdman, the Number One Stunna, you know what I mean? I'm Stunna Jr. (Yeah), and that's all I know, that's all I ever knew Get money or get nothing, you know what I'm saying? (I feel) And I feel that way (I feel it), for real So hard I go, I keep pushing (yeah) The game so crazy, I'm in it like deep pussy (yeah) I got chip from tryna get the whole cookie Used to make a thousand dollars every time I played hooky (yeah) Dwayne Carter absent, keep looking (bitch) I'm present on the block, I'm a legend on the block (yeah) Ice so bright like heaven on the watch (yeah) Yeah, nigga, I done dropped one-eleven on the watch (Uh) So watch and see what I do (yeah, yeah) Breeze by you so fast, got you sneezing, hachoo They got the shivers, man, I got the fever I gotta bring the hood back after Katrina Weezy F Baby, now the F is for FEMA Sick nigga, bitch, I spit that leukemia (bitch) Yeah, no cure, no help So me, so good, so hard, so felt Feel me And that's just my point right there That's what I'm always trying to stress, know what I'm saying? If you don't understand me, if you don't feel me, then you ain't real In my eyes, and that's all that count to me, you know? So, is your music considered the voice of urban America or America period? I mean, I would say the voice of the hood 'cause that's who I speak for And myself, you know what I mean? My family, that's who I represent My homies (yeah), my girl, my life, you know? C'mon, bang this shit, nigga, pump my shit (yeah) You gotta bang that wimp and go and dump that bitch (yeah) You gotta claim that strip and go and flood that bitch (yeah) You gotta aim that shit and straight bust that shit Like motherfuck them niggas, what they wan' do? I'm ready Tevin Campbell, no homo, black Rambo (yeah, yeah) Fucking with the boy, baby, that's a gamble (yeah) If he won in Vegas, leave him on the crap table (Come on) I'm willing and I'm able to come run up in your stable (yeah) Like nobody make a sound, where the paper? Where the paper? Gotta get it, gotta have it (yeah), once I got it, I'ma spend it (yeah) Then it's back to doing any damn thing just to get it (yeah) The re-ups be like birthday parties (Huh?) No room to park the cars in the garages (Huh?) So outside the cribs, all you see is 'erraris If I ain't say it right, fuck it, I ain't foreign Feel me And see, that's where everybody getting me wrong at, you know what I mean? I got that heat rock, for real Why do you think other rappers lack the impact of your music? That's because they ain't got that heat rock like me, you know what I mean? They ain't spitting like me They're spitting, but, know what I mean, they ain't got colds I got the flu over here, man (yeah), for real I need relief Y'all help me, for real (yeah) I know y'all sick of me, 'cause I'm tired of y'all, for real And based on the bank, I'm doing much better than a lot of these niggas I'm tired of these niggas Yawning when I see 'em, make me stretch and pull the burner (yeah) I'm cocking back and passing They catch 'em in their sternum Ooh-ooh, that gon' probably burn you (yeah) That gon' probably learn you (yeah) To never, ever, ever (what?) Ever, ever, ever come around here no more Rich gangsters over here, you gotta die with the broke bitch I'm the god, I should ride with the Pope But the boy so hood, I just ride with my ho (yeah) Yeah, and tell her 'bout Hollygrove Tell her 'bout my last show, tell her 'bout my last ho You know, just born to mack Call me Deion Sanders, bring the corner back, yeah I'm in my prime, niggas falling back (okay) That's right, I'm coming, baby, yeah, hard as crack Feel me And that's just what it is, nigga (yeah) If you don't like my shit, then fuck you and your shit, man, straight up That's how I was taught, that's how I was brought up And that's how I'ma go down, man, for real Cash Money Young Money in your motherfucking throat, bitch Swallow slow Weezy F Baby, this interview is over Go to the next song, bitch