[Spoken Interlude: Lil Wayne]
My favorite TV shows, man, is SportsCenter, ESPN News, Pardon the Interruption, um, Around the Horn, uh, Quite Frankly, um, Outside the Lines, uh, yuh, uh, Baseball Tonight? Y’er’me? I watch sports, dog. That’s basically—that’s what I’m tryna say. I watch sports, man. That’s what I’m into. Sports, sports, sports—every sport. Hockey, golf, basketball,—football, of course—baseball, y’er’me? I got a favorite team, a favorite player in every single sport. I’m not gon’ answer those questions. Let’s go—

[Intro: Lil Wayne, DJ Drama, & DJ tags]
[?], what up?
That was my phone
Shout-out to Boogie Brown! (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Janeice, I see you!
I ain’t cut it off, I just hung up
It’s Gangsta Grillz, you bastards!
Yeah

[False Start: Lil Wayne, DJ Drama, & DJ tags]
Cover my tracks like butter, so where the bread be?
I see beef as dead meat
Who that?” (Yes!) The president— yeah, me; no one scare me
And you ain't gotta double-dare me, hear me?
(Gangsta Grillz, you bastards!) Oh!

[Verse: Lil Wayne, DJ Drama, & DJ tags]
Cover my tracks like butter, so where the bread be?
I see beef as dead meat
"Who that?" The president—yeah, me; no one scare me
And you ain't gotta double dare me, hear me—
Loud and clearly? rats aren't near me
Wire-tap n***as get blood in they earpiece
I'm from New Orleans, nowhere near peace
Pure beast, fear-free—"Dear grief!"
Catch up, bitch, I'm in gear three
Zoom, gone, see you, peace! Drop one finger (Gangsta!)
Yeah! Fuck 'em and whoever made 'em
I will hurt whoever love 'em, 'cause I hate 'em
Lookin' for a lady, high and sedated
Got her to the pad—I don't know how a n***a made it
She gave me relations, so, now, we related
The morning comes; the picture faded
I waited on my turn to burn—can I get a light?
Little dog: bigger bite; Jackson Five: Little Mike
Can I get a mic or a mic and a half—
That the Source owe me? Shout out to the editing staff, yeah
I'm all grown, so much better with math
I need a spread in the "Forbes" taking a Benjamin bath, yeah
I'm serving this track, like Steffi Graf, yeah
Roger Federer; there's no competitors
N***as know my rhetoric; bitches know my preference
Young God, baby—all them other n***as reverends
Sittin' in my big house, surrounded by my weaponries
I keep them away like I got leprosy
Chopper right next to me, loaded up with pepper seeds
Got an extra clip, but that's only for my especiallys, yeah, yeah
(Dramatic— Dramatic—) This is especially for you
Just respect a n***a game—what kind of referee is you?
Swallow your whistle—make a n***a ride with the pistol
'Cause the fakest n***as ride with the pistol
Even if I die old, I'ma die with the pistol
If you stand over my body, I'll prob'ly kill you, yeah
Now, I feel it: Weezy the realest
I wear a lot of Bathing Ape, 'cause I be with gorillas, yeah (Gangsta— Gangsta—)
He what they talking 'bout: topic of the conversation
Product of determination, yeah
Stop playing—you are not up in my situation
I get money like a Caucasian
The car red, so the car Cajun; stop hatin'
Y'all ballers; I'm a sports agent, yeah
Wait a minute—let me translate it: It's—
"Weezy Not-The-Father Motherfuckin' Baby"