Los Ángeles Azules
Holla At Them Boyz
[Intro: Lil Wayne & Gudda Gudda]
Gutta, you feel like rappin? (Fo sho!)
Well looka here...I'mma let you do you first, and I MIGHT come behind you...
This SQAD UP right here man...you know what I'm sayin? Holla at dem boys!

[Verse 1: Gudda Gudda]
It's - Young J-A-Y
Gutta Gutta fuck anotha busta tryin' knock my hustle!
I hit the strip ey'day I got the hustle cluckas
I keep that nina in my clutch so I can touch it, fucka!
A murdera - catch Gutta Gutta in the kitchen with a birdera
Snitch n***as can't sell us shit, we heard o' ya
Bitch muhfuckas poppin' shit, we murder ya! *Biatch!*
Run up in ya crib snack up ya kid then murk yo Pa
You don't know what I do to ya! *Uh uh*
Leave ya fuckin mother cryin at ya funeral - faggot ass n***a!
I pull that gat out n***as - jump it rabbit ass n***a!
The SQAD is takin ova, shit you betta aks n***a!
It's Young Money till I'm R.I.P.,
Fuckin bitches gettin money, shit that's all I see - P!
Cause we thuugin'- bussin in the club and - middle fingas up
We hollerin SQAD UP n***a! *SQAAAD UP!*

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
You got a problem - tell 'em meat me by mine
You know the heat be by my nuts n***a
Man we can knuckle up in a place, or buss up the whole place, betta buckle up
Befo I have yo Mami standin ova ya cold face, ready to puck her up!
I'm so straight - I got my hustle UP!
I do this shit for them n***as with the zip-lock bags, just keep it bundled up!
I see you daddy - hit my numba up!
I tell yo people get with my people and we could holla over lunch
Man how you want it - dope, blow or what?
I giva a lady a kiss - a bitch a smack - a ho nut
Then get that ho to Dizzy, Gudda, Yo and Nut!
I give a hater a elbow to the gut
I'm so agressive, there ain't a lesson I haven't been learned
So n***a you can't tell me shit!
I knew to much for school - you can't feel me bitch!
I know I needed a Two - you need a helmet slick!
Because I'm going at ya head with the 'fo banga
They gon' start callin you no-brainer!
And please don't bring her if she is a no-brainer
And you'ont need a brainer - know I'm Weezy Baby!
Come back Gutta - holla atcha boy!
*What up Gutta?*
[Verse 3: Gudda Gudda]
Look - it's Young Money you bitch you! *ya bitch you!*
When we bang - we make sho' that we hit you!
It's young J. Gudda muhfuckin slick dude!
Skinny red dude!
N***a plays and he spray it in the head dude!
Give me way cause I strive with them hood - strive!
Puffin dro' - stay hi off that good right?
And I ride for the SQAD - understood right?
So respect - I give ya a bad death - say goodbye to that good life!
*He was a good n***a! Hoh shit...*

[Verse 4: Lil Wayne]
You see normally I wouldn't do this - but I'm gon' keep the party goin'!
The hottest Carter next to Shawn - the hottest flow next to homie
I give my highest respects to homie - What's good Hov' Baby? Holla atcha homie!
I holds it down for my territory
I bear the glory of the fellas neva get to know this
And when I jet through the 'jects - you can bet - all the n***as and chicks - gon' take flix
Cause they never seen the machine I lean in
I mean straight sick - the boy so clean and
All the lil' children up to chase my great whip!
I'm talkin bout the great Weezy Baby - splendid!
Heart-broken in a lotta spots - never mended!
I bought coke - opened up a spot - felt relentless
I was only twelve but the money made me twenty
Now it's only right for me to ride around on twenties
It's only life to ride around with the semi
Get outta bounce, I won't blow the whistle - I'mma blow the pistol - ya hear me?
Quit all the fouled play out - or I spray out
Ya'll rookies need to be like me - I'm fundamental like Timmy
But I can get flagrant like Kenyon!
I cannot'a hear any opinions bout my image
Man I'm the same playa from the finals to a scrimmage
I put the AK up to ya spinal and just whip it
It kinda burn, don't it sissy?
You know the kid just - pimpin - thuggin
Bandanered up like a old hippie - or sumtin
Canons up - I hope you start trippin - I love it!
I see no public - it's just you and your snakes and me and some n***as that love me!
See you could just hate - but me and these n***as is grubbin!
We at supper - it's mm-mm good fucka!
You try 'n touch it - it's boom-boom-brr-blucka!
You try 'n block us - you bette be Chris Tucker!
Cause this summer we gon' blow like dick-suckas!
And if ya flitch blitch catch a blow to ya dick-suckas...nicca!
*Faggot!*
You hear that clinch-clinch I lock the (???) to this shit, cussin'!
Man let me chill I'm to cold for this shit cussin'...
[Outro: Lil Wayne]
Yes Sir - this ya boy Weezy Baby man, we doin this
Wayne here - I see you!
Fe - I see you!
Louie Baby - I see you!
Gudda Gudda! We right here man...whutsup?
Ce Ce Baby - I ain't forget you!
Raj Smoove man! We gon' make it happen man - I promise to God - swear-ta-God!
Fuck ya'll man...