my airplane clothes flyer than your best this year,
gorillas in the mist, pull back pump they fist,
im from the planet of the apes, King kong clips,
run through your land trippin,
can’t pretend when this is real as it gets can ya,
if sh-t hits the fan, i Ron Artest -ggas,
this how Im living getting tatted in some house slippers,
I like my b-tches simple, laid back, relax your mental,
tell me what you tryna get into,
gossiping f-ck the car look at the man in it
we don’t hire b-tches,
it’s young money fire spitters,
them red x’s with us
and they aint ate they dinner,
beginners feast, feet lying fatality finish,
Im killin these records they put me in Guinness
i really dont giv a f-f-uck if you witness,
you hear it, listen, buy it, steal it,
i still gon get my f-cking percentage,
I cuss a lot cuz b-tch Im seers,
young no beard, get soup,
flyer than Dumbo ears is, b-tch,
uhh, now let me start by sayin
but I weather the storm Imma lightening streak,
uhh, Weezy F baby, I do it big weigh me,
them crazy freaky b-tches try to cirque du soliel me,
got some new b-tches, trail got em laughing,
the one that gave me head can suck the nail out a casket,
shot gun on the kitchen table,
bullet shells in the cabinet,
f-cking with me is like stepping on the tail of a dragon,
more b-tches than a pageant,
I keep a house full -gga call me bob sagat,
and we aint in the building we the f-cking contractors,
Y YM, why muthaf-ck why hate it,
Young Money down your throat gotta stay hydrated,
open up your mouth and catch a bomb baby,
eagle street car in tune,
long dough, no short bread, no lorna doon,
hospital full, sick of my flow,
hip hop was washed up so I bought some change to finish my load,
I load millions and more millions,
step up in this b-tch 5 o clock in the morning,
the world is waking up you can hear the pigeons yawning,
yo -ggas need a lesson on some ethic you gon learn now,
I do this for the love of it,
saliva cos I love to spit,
and I duke it for my future records
fucking with my bredren 10 years strong,
and he put them dreds in silver john long,
but he’s more like platinum,
pick your jaw up off the floor
and tuck your tongue right back in,
tell me where is Mack Maine,
… (thats all I have) More from Birdman And Lil Wayne