A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Lil Wayne

"Like Father, Like Son"

[Intro]
There ain't no love like
Like father like son, n*gga

[Verse 1: Birdman]
Yeah
It's filthy with quarter ki's in the kitchen on 'em
Tha block is hot but we out here gettin it on 'em
And keep a tool everytime we hit the streets
Cause these n*ggas act a fool and we be quick to put it on 'em
Them tear drops homie we so not
The n*gga to f*ck with cause we will pop
.40 cal keep it c*cked n*gga ready to block
Keep a gun a extra clip homie thats how we rock
And like father like son daddy we dont borrow
We stay on the grind homie cause we grind harder
And f*ckin with me homie you won't like
You be the next t-shirt, we in ya hood all night
We got birds flyin out and we've allowed the pipes
We do this state to state thing and cheat the price
And Rufus came home and I told him to shave
But he was tellin me about them pus*y n*ggas back in the eighties, baby

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Listen
Birdman put me on when I was just eleven
He was my teacher, so I was like f*ck the lesson
He was my preacher, so I was like f*ck the reverend
My mother Cita, she said that I was with the devil
My mother Cita, now say that he was sent from heaven
So, I take heed to every single word that he tell me
And I remember what my poppa told me
Remember what my poppa told me, Young Stunna

[Verse 3: Birdman]
Yeah
Im out c'here homie pitchin the game
And yes I do the whole thing n*gga give me my change
Yes we do the same thing out the brand new Range
Little n*gga like his father homie doin his thing
We keep the gun for paper homie aimed and c*cked
Every n*gga in my circle homie ready to pop
We be ridin drop tops thats just how we rock
And ill be ridin in the Phantom through my up town blocks
n*gga

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Lil Wayne]
Alright money on my mind
Look I-I-I I hear you n*ggas wisperin
I say wisperin cause you n*ggas ain't hollerin bout sh*t
Po' pus*y ass n*ggas gangster and me
Look Birdman jr f*ck the world pops
And we gon keep it movin even if the world stops
Stay strapped and laced like girl socks
Stay dapped and drapped like a birthday cake
Birthdays was the worst days
Now we sippin' on Louis when we thirsty
Ya know, I do believe the moneys cursed me
So I pray to God that the devil dont murk me, uh
Little Wizzle but you b*tches call me first place
And papa taught me paper chase never skirt chase
I put you n*ggas in the closet in the shirt space
You n*ggas yellow like Sesame street Bert's face
Worst case scenario, burial
Two tone Carara like Mascara, uh
The G4 take your boy where ever
Like father, like son the era, n*gga

[Hook]

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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