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UNK

"Back on My Grizzy"

[Intro]
Yeah, Drought 3, yeah
b*tch I'm back on my grizzy, Young Money, where you at?
Two tables and a mic, tell the DJ run it back
b*tch I'm back on my grizzy, Young Money, where you at?
Two tables and a mic, tell the DJ run it back, bi- bi- bi-
You ready now?
Cut me up G, cut the music up baby
Yeah, I'm going in

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
b*tch I'm back on my grizzy, Young Money where you at?
If you f*ck with Young Money, Young Money where you at?
Like the Energizer Bunny with a battery pack
Boy that chopper keep drumming like brrrat-at-at-tat
Or pa-rum-pa-pum-pum, and I'm so young
But I'm a giant, like "Fe-Fi-Fo-Fum"
Just bought a new crib inside Sodom
Got some money put away in case the hurricane come
I'm a f*cking shame, huh? Yeah I know, yeah I know
I go out the country to get all my clothes and my hoes
I go out my way just to get my dro and my dough
'Cause I love it more than I love my hoes, yes I does
I got gasoline coming out my pores, I'm a torch
I got glasses like that white boy Scott Storch, and a Porsche
I got license for the scorch, snipers at your porch
Rifles by the forts and we shoot up courts
The judge just a b*tch, the jury suck di*k
I'm an Eastside Blood and I don't smoke that Crip
I smoke that Kush, first name Bubba
First name Young, last name Stunna
Carter in the office, take notes when I'm talking
Smooth as a cruise boat floats when I'm walking
I boast cause I'm balling, I'm supposed to be balling
When I'm on the phone with b*tches, man, the money keep calling
You ain't satisfied 'til your son'll be calling
Telling you where to leave the money in the morning
OK, you want a zombie movie instead
That's when you walk in your house and everybody dead
Yeah, I could take a sh*t where I stand, where I stand
And watch you pussies p*ss in your pants
You ain't a man, you're a ho, I could kill him with the flow
And then play the guitar at the f*cking funeral
Big guns so they drinking big shots
And my gang go Saddam Hussein and missile launch
The Korean call me Wayne Chang, now listen ma
I don't know karate, but after the brain, I'll kick you out
You n*ggas suck like Tony Romo, no homo
And I'm all about my money, I get paid for promo
Yeah, I'm the man in this b*tch
They say money talks, well I'm the ventriloquist
And if I ever jump, I'll probably land in your b*tch
Boy that ho colder than my hand and my wrist
Boy I'm more cooler than a fan and a mint
And when I'm done this track will need a couple bandages
I be with savages and I'm above average
I'm a crazy ass star like a f*cking asterisk
You n*ggas can't see me, I'm on my Casper sh*t
Runnin' so much game, I'll f*ck around and lap a b*tch
The club like a grocery, I just bag a b*tch
And you know I'm gonna score like Deion after picks
I'm rollin' on a pill, she get that morning after di*k
And when my roll came down, guess what I did after it?
I pop-popped, and took some Patron shots
I pop-popped, and took some Grey Goose shots
I pop-popped, yeah
Young Money, b*tch and if you n*ggas wanna do it
We chop-chop, and leave your back on the block
We pop cops, and ain't no rats on my block, I got shop
I got that dro, I got them pills, I got that yay
Give it to them hoes and watch them b*tches freak away

[Outro]
Young Money, b*tch
Drought 3, in ya neck, pus*y
It's like a Adam's apple, n*gga
Weezy Baby, the God, Amen, gone

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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