[Intro: Lil Wayne]
Dope man
Dope man, coke man
Yeah
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
I play the Porsche, 918
I mean the Spyder, you do not know what I mean
I got a driver for my drop top limousine
Go ask yo b**h, I bet she know bout Mr. G
Yeah he like to talk
She like to talk
So when he drop her off
They have a heart to heart
Guess he got all the answers
And I got all the verses
My Benzo got no ceilings
But the windows came with curtains
So me and G swervin
Me and G swerve
I keep the double-R, me and Steve Kerr
Popping these Percs like I'm on injury reserve
And when the pockets full of lint, we want that lint to be fur
Amen, amen
No baking soda, my n***a, we play it raw
We put some holes in them n***as, we playin' golf
Want you to know it's me n***a, my mask off
Cut out your tongue put that b**h in a gla** jar
Then drop it off to your kid's cla**room
Dirt bags, we belong on a vacuum
A pad room, I f** in my bathroom
Long hallways, my room is the last room
Long hard days, my schedule don't have room
You home all day, you stuck on your Macbook
I'm gone all day, I'm chasing that checkbook
I'm stoned all day, I'm stoned all day, I'm on D'usse
And back in the day we was on section eight
Now we in our own section, motherf**er like "Ayy"
All you n***as know what time it is like Flav
Public Enemy Number One like Flav
Fifteen with a mouth full of golds like Flav
Fifteen with a house full of hoes like Hef
Gave G the day off cause the car park itself
Shots take off like a stealth
And they landing in your scalp
Letting human heads replace the Grammies on the shelf
Put a b**h head right below the belt 'til she belch
And she won't get a dollar; zero, zilch
Cup muddy-muddy, muddy-muddy-muddy
Tunechi pa** the blunt, I'm gon' need time to study
They don't know who got the gun
But they know who got the money
We don't wanna know what's up
We wanna know who got the money
What these n***as wanna do?
What these b**hes want from me?
b**hes claiming I'm a dog
But these b**hes want puppies
These b**hes bring luggage
My b**hes bring others
My b**hes bring rubbers
Your b**hes burn rubbers
Your b**hes burn supper
I'm still major and I made ya n***as
You getting bodied by a skater n***a
I'm not the type of n***a that be Skypin' b**hes
Shout out to all my b**hes one nightin' n***as
Make sure you hit 'em with the s*ut Walk
Yeah, then text that man to f** off
And I pour up another one, another one
The cream soda tastin' like bubble gum
Woah, straight swerving on these n***as
From Collins to Highland to Bourbon on these n***as
Them other n***as just wasn't deserving of me, n***as
So I'm swerving on them n***as
No more Family Matters, no more Urkel on them n***as
I'm feeling like a born again virgin on them n***as
I'm running to the bank, quick as Herchel on them n***as
What's in your wallet?
I done went commercial on them n***as
On purpose on them n***as
All black hoodie, all black gat to match
Yeah, put it to your hat, and Blat!
When we see you, boy, them shots be coming back to back
Long hair, don't care, n***a; Cactus Jack
No Ceilings