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Yo Pierre, you wanna come out here? Lil Wayne: We been outchea Never 'bout a bitch it's 'bout a check my nigga Never 'bout the bitch about the check my nigga That's my nigga! Make me do construction in your section nigga Rari' doin' donuts that's my breakfast nigga Okay you got soldiers, I got veterans nigga And I got that white, like One Direction nigga Kesha nigga, Only God can judge you I'm a sentence you the death my nigga (yeah) And you are not a topic in my section nigga Math teacher taught me how to count my fucking blessings nigga Got married to the fucking mob when I met it nigga Everybody cried at my motherfucking wedding nigga Everybody 5 in my motherfucking section nigga Hoodybaby six, so numbers lying in my sections nigga Still got them bloods, like a vessel nigga, that's right nigga Tell a blind nigga, watch your step my nigga Left, right nigga, (whoa) I let my niggas glow, My niggas don't speak BAP! BAP! BAP! Quote, un-quote Never had cold feet Stepping out, moving snow Cut the heads off the sheep, and send them all around the GOAT SongtexteO-M-W, B-M-W, N-E-W I got that R-A-W, for the L-O-W That's non-refundable, that's L-A-W And we hate deductibles, like police hate untouchables They see me in the car, then they F-O-L-L-O-W I drive S-L-O-W, with that B-L-O-W I like it very colorful When it come to my jungle juice I'm outchea yelling "Fuck a truce!" If he gon' act like mother goose (whoa) It's never bout' the kids, about the pets my nigga (no) It's right between the ears, above the neck my nigga (whoa) It's very quiet, when you hear the weapons nigga (shh!) They verify you by your dental records nigga (Six Shit) Fuck the city up and I got the glizzy tucked Dick hanging from the mouth, look like a billy club Flyest niggas from the city, bitch, that's really us You pussies talking, boo boo boo, now you really fucked Ridin' in the range with Maine, we switch lanes With my bottom bitch, walked the beach in Biscayne Real P shit, that's that M.O.B. shit Look at me now, these pussies said I wasn't gon' be shit Yeah, got a homie named Trel from Hoover, he might shoot you Red rag hangin' out my right pocket, but I'll blues you When them roosters touch down, we make them bitches cock-a-doodle Take a shot at me over a beat, bitch, I'ma shoot you Got a bitch named Vicky, she pretty, she keep me stiffy Glock .40 in her purse, don't tempt me, her finger itchy She ride so I keep her with me She shy but not with that glizzy She high from hittin' the blizzy Eyes red like trippy Hoody rollin' up, that boy smoke like a hippie Fill my double cup up with mud, that's right, I'm sipping Yeah, retarded with it, I just might be the hardest with it And you a rat, you be politckin' with the Sarge, Lieutenant Fuck all you bitches Gudda Aus Songtexte Mania