Watch My Shoes

[Produced by Mouse On Tha Track] OK: no ceilings, motherfucker, good morning Dick in your mouth while you're yawning, "I'm goin' in!" Gudda, why they started me? Marley, why they started me? I’ll bring it to your front door like you ordered me Back in this bitch, but a lot more rich On my Papa Bear shit, need hot porridge Got a lot more shit than you could ever fathom A big-head nigga couldn’t even imagine The shit I do, most doers never done I'mma fuck this beat and, bitch, you better cum! Bet I run this shit, I don't run from shit I still beat your ass like a fucking drumstick Weezy Fucking Baby, baby, make the ladies come quick The money can’t fit in my pockets, but I bet that gun fit And I’m so unfit, cause all I eat is rappers And these rappers ain't shit, I like my fast food faster Syrup got me slow, like a turtle 'round this ho And I'm flyer than the highest-flying bird around this ho Whats the word around this ho? You get served around this ho Yeah, you get served like a fucking hors d'œuvre around this ho And I don’t splurge around no ho, no I don’t shine in front of no bitch Cause after she get off my dick, I be like, "find the front door, bitch" And I don't know why the fuck your bitch keep coming by I done fucked your bitch a hundred times What the fuck your bitch got on her mind? My fucking dick; I call her dickhead, spicy like a Big Red Strike you like a Bic head; your flow sick, my shit dead Sillier than V.I.C. said, Soulja Boy and Arab You should see my 11-year-old daughter do they dance I call it the Nae-Nae dance; proud to be Nae-Nae’s dad Gun on the waistline, leave you in the wasteland We are not the same; I am a Martian, this is Space Jam No ceilings, R.I.P., amen; motherfucking caveman Beating on my chest, Young Money, Cash Money And I'm eating all the rest, nigga No offence, sorry if you're offended Riding high like I'm on 54 inches Man, I'd rather chill with 54 bitches Ch-chill like, ch-chill like an Eskimo Let's get mo', let's get mo' bitches And I be like, "let's get mo' bitches" Mr. Officer, stop arresting your bitches Stop lettin' the messy hoes mess with your business Mickey Mouse cheese, hip-hop Walt Disney Sheesh, gosh, Oshkosh B’gosh Smokin on that Bob Marley, listening to Pete Tosh I-I-I do me; no, I do three At a T-I-M-E Why when we say we Young Mula The bitches leave y'all, and relay run to us And payday comes sooner than later round here You see my sharks like I got some bait around here Hey, you better stop the hate around there Before Tommy, Mack, and Nina debate around there Yeah, you see it in my face, I don’t care Whole court hearing, trial, and the case around there I'm the best thing yet, I know I got that thing wet Everybody wanna be fly but don’t know where their wings at ...Had to pause for a minute And I'm right back in it like the drawers of the women On a scale of 1 to 10 and my girl be a 20 My girl's so bad, make a nigga think he's sinnin' My goons are so gritty, my goons are so with me Haters gotta go on iTunes to go get me Gators by the doors, baboons and those grizzies All come out me when I'm on the microphone in the Mic check, 2, 3, I am different like blue pee And my girls be half naked like Betty Boop be Like a hoopty, man, the boy been riding And I ain't gassed up, because I'm more like a hybrid You think I'm stuntin', but no, I'm just surviving And I’ve been here, but my soul is just arriving Look up in the air, it's a crow, it's a robin No Ceilings, full dose, I'm prescribing Medication free, and for meditation we Smoke some better tasting weed Than you’ll ever taste or see S-H-A-R-P as a tack, hotter than Riding through a desert on a camel back I done been riding through wherever with the hammer strapped I ain't lying, I can do whatever if I'm planning that So I got my guns, let's dance like FannyPack And we cook the hard, cut the soft, and bring the whammies back Mafio, bitch, where your motherfucking family at? Call my nigga Gudda if you trying to get your Mammie back All up in another nigga's woman, I be ramming that Seeing through these see-through niggas like they laminate Hip-hop so contaminate, I swear, just examine it And I'm such a philanthropist, the god to these evangelists I dress all Los Angeles, but I love Miami though I am so New Orleans; yes, I go pistachios That means I go nuts at any beat they throw at me And the bitches is so at me And you know what they throw at me?