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Lil Wayne Feat. Bun B, Nas, Shyne & Busta Rhymes - Outro |
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Verse 1: Bun B |
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Yeah... When I step in the spot, motherf-ckers say "who that?" |
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Big Bun B, but you already knew that |
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Live from the state where they chop it and screw that |
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You hatin' on the trill OG, where they do that? (for real!) |
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Motherfckers need to get off the dick, man |
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Fall the f-ck back like a bike with no kickstand |
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Get out my mix man, just go' get you stuck |
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Deeper in the quicksand, with no easy fix, man (damn!) |
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No tricks, man, those is for kids |
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Kush in my cigar, and hoes in the crib |
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Drank, and the 20 ounce froze in the fridge |
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You f-ckin' with DA so you know what it is |
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I'm sittin' on the fours that clack |
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Comin' down candy in the golden 'Lac |
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We gettin' to the money like it's Goldman Sachs |
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And we do it for the pimps that are holding back... let's go! |
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Verse 2: Nas |
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Look who crept in with automatic weapons, reppin' QB till the death of him |
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That nigga that inspired lyrical tyrants like Kanye West and Em |
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Track record goes back to "The Essence" |
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Smack adolescents who ask who the best is |
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I'm nasty like gas from a fat man, attested, |
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I pass it, you gaspin' for breath and you die fast |
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But I'm like a gastric bypass, |
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Bunch of Nas African actors seemed to get typecast in the same role |
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Since 16 I ain't grow a day old yet my brain grow, cocaine white Range Rov' |
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Tats on my body like an art exhibit, I did real good for a project nigga |
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Was once a Bacardi sipper, now it's Chandon, |
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Fat blunts in the car with strippers |
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Guns in compartments hidden, I was real young, little youth, a novice nigga |
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Blessings, bowed down, respected, chowed down now my food's digested |
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Pow pow, with my shooters are Techs, bust louder than the noise I just spit |
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Let's get one thing straight that my crown ain't for testin'... testin' |
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Chop heads off like King Henry the 8th, guillotine to ya neck, bitch! |
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I'm a king in this thing, don't be dumb |
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Been in this shit since '91 |
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Niggas can't f-ck with the style I use |
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Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum |
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Calm now, was a wylin' dude, studied cowards that made power moves |
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Watched Wild Planet seen lions devour food, you can say that's how I move |
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A monster nigga, and I don't really like doing songs with niggas |
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There go my nigga Wayne, let them niggas hate |
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I love my nigga Drake say "we ain't got time to respond to niggas" |
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Verse 3: Shyne |
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I'm a villain, I'm a villain, all that happens in the street |
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Poverty and desperation made me everything I be |
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I'm a shotta, when I pop up with them poppers burn ya block up |
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Call the judges, call the coppers, we takin' over Gotham |
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Word to Poppa |
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Blood gang, five! It's that Blood gang, five, but green is the bottom line |
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I run this town, I ain't gon' lie, they run they mouth, they ain't gon' fight |
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They actin' like they ain't gon' die until I let them llamas fly |
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Flatbush to Bed-do-or-die, from Watts to Larry Hoover Chi |
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Poverty and heroine, it's no place for a juvenile |
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Put greed in our heart, it's the green that we want |
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Cash Money is the company and Weezy the boss! |
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Verse 4: Busta Rhymes |
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They say I'm underrated, but un-compete-with-able |
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Understandable, being that my rating levels are unreachable |
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Anything said other than that should be silenced, unspeakable! |
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And the thought of you being nicer than me, unfeasible! |
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They ask is what I do ever gonna stop, this shit will never end |
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That's when you hear a car crash in the vocal booth got em sayin' |
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"There he goes again!" |
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See now they nominated a nigga to come and flatten everything |
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Now let me dominate it, nigga run |
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And they be knowin' that I be blackin' on everything |
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And make it complicated like a nigga constipated with a gun |
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I gotta make it what they want and wake 'em when I come and shake 'em |
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And bake 'em and take 'em to another place |
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Ain't no fakin', ain't no kind of mistakin' how I be breakin' up |
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Everything and be creating a s-s-s-situation when I'm done (Damn!) |
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You see I spit National Treasure, discography rich |
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And I done killed more cats than curiosity, snitch! |
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Most of you niggas sorry and owe apologies, quick |
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What the f-ck you niggas still hangin' around here for, you apostrophe bitch? |
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OK, now enough of that, see now I'm out the door |
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Tunechi, thanks for giving us a whole 'nother classic with Tha Carter IV |
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End |
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Lil Wayne Feat. Bun B, Nas, Shyne & Busta Rhymes - Outro |
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