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My Weezy

Gangsta Grillz
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Lyrics

(This a Big E beat) "Young Money All-Stars" on the way Put the party in the bag, now hand it over Aight, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute See I ain't know you were gon' do this one Aight, now y'all motherfuckers happy, huh? That-That's what y'all been wanting, huh? Okay, okay, go 'head, Drama, do it (This a Big E beat) See, I don't wanna be the mixtape king no more More like the mixtape president Barack O'Drama It was definitely time for change Yeah I mean the game been dry Uh-huh So, I figured we going for re-election Yeah So, me and Wayne gon' keep running Uh-huh So y'all niggas can fly It's Gangsta Grillz, you bastards This a Big E beat And I'ma cook this bitch like piggy meat, yeah, haha You can get pork-chopped Young Money, bitch, let the champagne cork pop I will bat your man, now go tell a shortstop Okay, bitch, you do the wop? Well, bitch, I do the guap Okay, man, you do the drop? Well, man, I do the yacht You pull up in parking lots, I pull up at the dock, like, yeah Macaroni, greens and hamhocks I am not on your planet like Doctor Spock Rock to my own tune, Lil Tune My stomach hurt, and my shit is dropping real soon Kill whom and whoever for whatever That barrel longer than a word with ten letters, now you spell it I say, "Young Money, bitch, forever" and we better Than all these motherfuckers up in this era, know'm tal'm 'bout? Yeah, I tell my niggas, "Pick the target out" Yeah, and then, I quickly pick the target off Like volleyball, I'ma serve 'em And being fake is pussy, so, nigga, I'm a virgin (Gangsta) Dr. Carter, tell them bitches I'm a surgeon Cleaner than some brand-new detergent, you heard me? And I make your bitch get on the plane with that Fergie Tell 'em, "Get off Birdman Jr. birdy" I love the skin that I'm in Goosepimples couldn't shake me up out of the Y-M That 'gnac, that Goose, that Tron, that gin Got a club of girls cracking, let the party begin I heard you call yourself a baller when the camera's on If it ain't tricking 'cause you got it, what you tripping on? See, I'm the spoiled chick you fronting niggas hate to meet up with But my crew holdin' duffle bags, bitches (Gangsta Grillz) Rocking on the scene (ugh), and yeah, I hit "My Dougie" (yeah) I D-Town boogie, now the girls really love me (c'mon) V.I.C. then Vic, yeah, they both got silly Lil Twist, I get silly (ugh), I'm the king of the city Young Money, Young Mula, yeah, the kid in this thing Grown men in this game can't compete with me, man (uh-uh) 'Specially when I pull up in that candy Range (yeah) With them fours on that thing, sitting next to Lil Wayne I'm a beast, I'm a dog, yeah, yeah I rap harder (c'mon) Mic in my hand, I run like Marion Barber Y'all haters on the sidelines, and I be a starter Going bad on you kids like the Reginae Carter That's my lil' sister if you boys didn't know (wait) That's Weezy's daughter, so don't mess with her bro (uh-uh) 'Cause we'll come find you in all kinds of cars Signing out, Young Money, D-Town's All-Star (yeah) It's Tyga (yup), no lion (no), I'm eating, no diner This species don't diet, every meal a fish Friday (yup) Squad deep like the white guy from Verizon, gator righteous So it's only right you meet the fugitive, John MacGyver (me) Teenager, school cyphers, I was too nicer than them No license, you gets no high-fiving Nigga, roll the damn dices (damn) Touché, my wordplay two shades from the color grey My kick game so unreal, they say them colors must be fake (hahahaha) Never been made, MTV, I make Quake your very eyesight, my fame's no mistake (nope) Since the deal, steak dinner everyday Fuck a movie, my life is like a Compton play (yeah) You can see it, nearly breathe it, from a couple feet away But stay away 'cause I don't get along with them tagalongs (nah) Let me get on a song, period, gone I'm off the hook like cordless phones My identity so right, they think it's wrong G.E.D., Young Money, finish strong, so I'ma keep going (ah) My ligaments covered in green like general syllables on my face Like my skin was leather-made, leatherman Louis You ain't never seen, like a nun booty None before we after, it's only boys Tyga man, I do it for the hatin' homies Shoutout to Hollygrove Shout to the A-Town 3-0-5, what's up? Shoutout to Harlem Philly, what's up?