Lyrics:
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)
like some Spandex
He hesitate, I spray and leave him like a Tampex
Oops, I meant a Tampax, bitch, I keep that anthrax
I can get your man whacked for
the fagget
Lets get dashed and crunk
I was lifted by a precher
So my mom pushed weight
Now I hooked up wit game
Real nigga with flame
He show me cali
out, I'm Lil Wayne
I got all these shiny chains and swag
Nigga you ain't gonna get no pussy
With that basic swag you need
To buy all this ice, this bling
dogs like I'm making Chinese, food
Rude only when I gotta be
Sometimes I gotta tell myself
Not to bother me
"Tell Lil Wayne not to bother Weez!"
Shawty
getting twisted off the indo
Baby, Lil Wayne, B.G., and me committing sins though
Better beware because we bout to spend a bend though
Don't get caught
to bring back originality, style and concept
Show you how to write 16's with context
Mix it with a little Lil Wayne and KRS
That's fresh! Dummy, study
bands and they dance on my waist
Hit the face, that's the editor
I don't take pics on a jet, lil' nigga
This shit regular, G5s all in my backyard
Sit
[Baby]
For sure, lil' one
Off top, playboy
Look here
These lil' young jive motherfuckers just jumpin' off the porch
[B.G.]
Let me at 'em
[Mr. Ivan]
Right now we got a lil' youngsta
Lil' Doogie, from the B.G.'z
Do what'cha gotta do mane
Say what'cha gotta say Wayne
[Lil' Wayne
the cush by the pounds
Nigga ankle blingin' baby wrist on freeze got
The pinky on the ice love a bitch wit gold teeth nigga hot
Girl nigga loving the G
"When all of these done"
We just put two up
And he was holdin' three of them
Lil' flip chopped and screwed, Joe Budden
Mood muzik, Wayne Dedication two,
the game that the want to go and get it
He gave a nigga 20 another nigga 10
And 5 came short lil' one knew he couldn't win
Lil' one couldn't win cause he
I don't need no fukking help
Done this shit all by myself
Every dollar that I count up, that's me
Grew up, lil Wayne was my model
Singing Gucci in
Dre, Doggy Dog, Nate Dogg, Ice Cube, y a T-Pain
Lil Wayne, 2Pac, B.I.G, Mobb Deep
No jugué en NES, siempre de PC
Dig my grave, I am sick
Read my
talkin to my boys
Get ya brains blowed out
Like the top of every car
We probably drive this summer we G'd Up
We G'd Up you know we G'd Up
We G'd Up you
a gangster, got pardoned by Trump
But I'm still out here bustin' my gun
Even Poof say he seen a lil' bitch
On my soul, I believe in Lil Crix
And I hate I
Yapping and always trying to get by
But I don't hear
It goes in one ear and out the other
Taught him how to G-slide and
He taught his mother get get down
wings and some french fries
Hot sauce and ketchup nigga
He telling and he hiding
But real niggas'll still catch a nigga
Cop-cop 'Raris, I don't test
the kindness in your heart for Wayne
His entire life, he gave you what there was to gain
I watched this whole debacle so I'm part to blame
Last request, can
the cash like a XO chain
Fifty-five hundred, nigga, that's your range
When I go to the club, make it storm, hurricane (yeah)
Nigga pull up, think he G
Goin' back to the labbin'
Lil' niggas payin' me for cookin' they slabbin'
Cook a brick and make it out a brick-and-halfin'
Chargin' them young g's ten
sold the pounds and go hustle the bricks
I booked studio with the trap money, Lil Wayne used to come get the bags from me
You still asking niggas for
.
Tell me, the game'll never fail me
Ask J or my lil' homie Shelby
Uh, I cut em' up like Marcus Welby
This is the dopest G, that you will ever see
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