Lil Wayne - I Don't Like The Look Of It - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

I Don't Like The Look Of It

Lil Wayne

I Am Not a Human Being

35

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Intro] I don't like the look of it [Verse 1: Gudda Gudda] Okay, I'm sippin on the syrup, got a nigga movin slow I'm all about the money, what the fuck you think I do it for? Bitch don't act like you don't know, I'm killin all these rap niggas Custom made caskets for yo' motherfuckin funeral Keep the women with me, shit I gotta keep like two or more Party everyday, like we won the fuckin Super Bowl Chillin wit my nigga Mack, he keep bitches handy White girl on the table, let 'em sniff the nose candy When I'm walkin by, the women sayin, "Who is that nigga?" I replied, "Hi, I am Gudda Gudda, that nigga!" I was raised in the home of the cap splitters Whip on 24's, watch it crawl like a caterpillar I come with a toy boy like a Happy Meal And you's a motherfuckin duck, Daffy Dill I'm from the school of hard knocks, where we scrap and kill Pick the knife or gun or you can get the package deal I'm hot nigga, burnin everything around me I was lost for a minute, took a while but I found me The streets say I'm king but the game'll never crown me Realest nigga doin it just ask the niggas 'round me So you cain't size me up or try to clown, uh Shark in the water, jump in and I'mma drown ya New Orleans nigga, gun out, I'mma down ya Put niggas to sleep like a muthafuckin downer I'm a Great White, you'se a flounder Fish and a bitch, I tuna eveything around ya U-Haul Gudda, movin everything around ya It's Young Money, bitch! At the top is where they found us, nigga [Verse 2: Lil Wayne] Uh, goons on deck, Marley don't shoot 'em Silence on the gun, watch a nigga mute 'em The coach in the booth, call me Jon Gruden School these niggas, they all my students All jokes aside, I ain't playin with ya The weed broke down, like a transmission Tha chopper spin him 'round, like a ballerina Bitch I'm still spittin like I ate a jalapeno I'm from uptown, my bitch from Argentina My pockets on fat like Joey Cartagena Stunt so hard, it's all y'all fault And when it come to beef, give me A1 Sauce I ain't worryin 'bout shit, everything paid out You could catch me courtside in Dwayne Wade house With a high yellow thick bitch wit her legs out Cash Money president, but we in a red house Who the fuck want it? Make my fuckin day I blow your candles out, now nigga cut the cake I gotta eat, bitch! Like a runaway Y'all niggas ain't eatin, stomach ache Okay, all these bitches, and niggas still hatin I used to be ballin, but now I'm Bill Gatein Fuckin with my iPhone, bumpin' Illmatic I'm on the road to riches, there's just a lil' traffic Hair still platted, thuggin is a habit Keep my guitar, hip hop Lenny Kravitz Bunch of bad bitches and I fuck 'em like rabbits Dope dick Weezy, ya girlfriend an addict, uh
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