Lil Wayne - Cream lyrics

Young Money, syrup in the big shot Time to do the thing thats word to your wrist watch Shoot the glock till it burn till my wrist lock Rims hella big tires skinny like Chris Rock Ho hold the gun sideways like o'dogg Shoot a n***a in his face knock his nose off Make the girls say my name like a roll call Pain k**ers got a n***a bout ta doze off Big sh** n***a talk big sh** n***a Big bread bread like a picnic n***a Shake the whole game like the hit stick n***a Money spread like germs get sick n***a Yea, And f** them other n***as, 1 nine hundred who want it I deliver Concrete shoes wont help in the river I don't care if you was Michael Phelps my n***a I'm higher than a mothaf**a Alps my n***a I'm flier than a mothaf**a stealth my n***a Young Money sh** top shelf my n***a We the mothaf**as like Milf my n***a Uh umm, Flow like Syringes Yea I'm in my mode got a code like Da Vinci I wan in the trenches, now I'm in the Trump And everybody watch your back,wen your in the front You ain't never safe stop playin' with a gangsta Bring it to his face and he ran like a flanker Bend the girl over put her hands on her ankles I'm all over this ice cream beat like sprinkles Why thank yous,if you a hater I'm eatin', yous a waiter Pistol on my hip, Tomb Raider Holla at your guala, zoom later Young Tune n***a, typhoon n***a And if you think its sweet, buy a room n***a Damu n***a, I'm on my gang sh**, She give me good brain like she studied at Cambridge Lightin' up a mothaf**ing blunt, Stupid fruity swag like a mothaf**a runt And I'm with my dog like mothaf**ing hunt Everyday of the week is the first of the month Audemar Piguet with the diamonds in the face Cant tell the time cause the diamonds in the face We can get it poppin' like a semi automatic And if you got beef I put the biscuit on the patty Rockstar tatted, big money addict Running this sh** now I'm feelin' athletic I I'm on a boat b**h, gettin' sea sick Stop playin' I'm fresher then a degree stick Street sh**, well of course, I smoke mare weed I'm on my high horse, please dont shoot me down, I land feet flat Then walk a million miles with New Orleans on my back Haha, I need a ma**age, And when it comes to hoes man I got a collage Finger on the bu*ton, n***a just stuntin' If you ain't the bank teller dont tell me nothin' Kush so strong you can smell me coming b**h I go hard like the boy from 300 You think ya kick it,well boy we puntin' Young Money baby we the sh** weak stomachs No Ceilings, mothaf**a'