BB KING FREESTYLE

[Intro: DJ Khaled & Drake] Let's go Ayy, the blues is now kickin' and dinner is three Michelin I don't eat red meat, but still got beef sizzlin' Know that I need discipline I keep singin' for all these hoes, they keep listenin' Niggas love to bro up with the boy and dap fists But we are not equivalent, dawg I been an only child, don't need siblings And I'm past them like the times that he's livin' in, okay Man, if you saw what I flew here, you be like "He's sickenin'" If you not runnin' some top, we not gon' keep kickin' it— [Interlude: DJ Khaled] No Ceilings 3 Lil Wayne and Drake, let's go [Verse 1: Drake] Ayy, the blues is now kickin' and dinner is three Michelin I don't еat red meat, but still got beef sizzlin' Know that I need discipline I keep singin' for all thеse hoes, they keep listenin' Niggas love to bro up with the boy and dap fists But we are not equivalent, dawg I been an only child, don't need siblings And I'm past them like the times that he's livin' in, okay Man, if you saw what I flew here, you be like "He's sickenin'" If you not runnin' some top, we not gon' keep kickin' it Classics I keep scribblin', lights in the Universal building just keep flickerin' Money just keep comin' in You would think I'm Irish the way that it stays doublin' I could feed a country with the tax that I pay governments Whatever they're doin' with my cash is very troublin' Okay, February came around, I used to get paid shovelin' Sold clothes, walked dogs, trust me, I stay hustlin' When it came to school, there's no way that I'm A-plus'n it So I just dropped out of it, trust me, I'm not proud of it Niggas get too comfy in they spot, they get knocked out of it Niggas get a gun just so they can make props out of it Shawty make a scene in the house, she get locked out of it Yeah, you not 'bout to be chillin' in this bitch with kicked feet up I'ma make you bounce out this ho, like Big Freedia Pete O. used to throw a purple tint on a two liter First private plane I ever rode was a eight-seater Before that, I got the bedroom hot with the space heater On top of that, I didn't have shit to my name either, that's real But now I'm givin' house tours 'til it's back to world tours Play that "Mask Off" when they find the real cure I might not be good for her, but I'm real to her Got no time for her, but give Richard Mille to her That's the only way I know how to express love My dawgs love sticks and drums like they Questlove All them jokes about Aubrey they got me messed up, for real I come with a lot of complications inside me It's always people misleadin' me that are tryna guide me Everyone wants to try me, but no ones wants to buy me Everyone wants to meet me, but no one wants to keep me Everyone talkin' lemons when everything is peachy Everyone got they hands out, and it ain't to reach me [Verse 2: Lil Wayne] Mhm, mhm Everyone got they glass out, let's drink to Weezy Every nigga that stare me down just came to see me Choppin' up a lil' cash cow, that's steak I'm eatin' Check deposits, high-risers with extra closets The sex platonic, I talk intelligent, text Ebonics The electronic guitars whinin', that's just Nirvana Tommy gun on the counter I call it Mr. Thomas That'll keep niggas honest I'm dozin' off in the driver seat 'cause the seat give massages That's some more point money, these numbers too steep for commas I'm eye to eye with niggas, I can't help but to see beyond them Got a two-seater problem Niggas thinkin' they cold, I knock the flu-season out them Bitches forget they hoes, and that's when Tunechi remind them I used to fuck Gucci models, I'm fuckin' Gucci designers I keep it 2-G regardless, I'm gettin' too deep for divers Let me resurface, I'm flexin' on purpose She especially curvy, bet she be servin' every purpose Perfect, I'm better than perfect, I'm sick, I need to see a medical person Eatin' all of these rappers with these edible verses All I gotta be is all that I can possibly She really, really into me, then suck it all up out of me I'm proud of me, I don't know how to be sorry, apologies You fuckin' with my math, you better know some trigonometry 'Cause I'ma be bustin', leave your Lima bean at your mama feet I flip the economy like Dominique Dawes They say I'm trippin', I guess they wishin' I finally fall I don't need war, I need a bitch that know I'ma need yours I'ma need more, niggas is shifty like Honda Accords Fire alarm, ain't got no ceilings, we climbin' the walls Higher than yours, I fuck your bitch and she die in my arms Lion has roared, No Ceilings 3 with my mind on the fourth Holla at your boy [Outro: DJ Khaled] This that BB King, Lil Wayne featuring Drake Classic shit (DJ Khaled) No Ceilings 3, Lil Wayne! (Lil Wayne!)