Grove St. Party

Lil Wayne: I got a whole lot of money Pop that p-ssy for me My homie got that yopper He’ll bang it at a copper Gangsta party, gangsta party, gangsta party! Stove on my waist Cook your ass up gourmet All-black .44 – do you want foreplay? I’m going at your face like Oil of Olay No champagne, but you know my flag rose Swagger on steroids: Canseco, Jose No Limit Records: We so ’bout it ’bout it I’m higher than a b-tch Feel like a climbed a f-cking mountain Illest nigga you know, my accountants still counting Shots hit him a minute ago But his body’s still bouncing Beam on the hammer, beam on your forehead Gotta kill the witnesses cause Birdman car red Hollygrove Monster, Eagle Street preacher Come to your funeral, kill everybody but the preacher! I live in Miami, nigga I’ll South Beach ya Robin Leach, uh – that’s how we ballin You know that I’m loaded but please don’t take a sweeter Beat one of you b-tch niggas up like John Cena Them hoes on your money Tell them hoes we coming Before we get it popping We ain’t saving hoes, we swapping Gangsta party, gangsta party, gangsta party! Big head Desert Eagle, call it “shotty” How’d you get that money? Stunna taught me that The zan took me under Patron brought me back I’m leaning on you muthaf-ckers Like I caught a flat And that Glock snap back like a old Starter hat What the lick read? I’m in the big league I’m a breath of fresh air Let the b-tch breathe! I’m trying to chillax But I had to do it, dev I’m at the funeral like “I had to do it, rev!” Mack you my big brother I split a wig for you Put that on ? repeat Until they bury me Moment of clarity: yeah That’s my diamond game I keep a fine b-tch Cause I like the finer things F-ck with me slime No brain on the whip I’ve got nothing in mind Carter 4, they ain’t f-cking with mine I drop that Sorry 4 The Wait To make up for the time Lil B: Yeah I do my thang, b-tch wassup? Young BasedGod, came in with the ballers Iced out chain, b-tch I’m rich off that same sh-t See 5 hoes on my d-ck, b-tch, it’s Christmas Straight Westside, Bay Area Bitch, I’ll graze em Gritty boy sh-t, BasedGod from the angles On like a cradle and you niggas can’t stop me Shouts out to Mack Maine getting rich and cocky. B-tches still Westside Shouts out to Weezy Young BasedGod with that .55 heater 187 b-tch, I put it to 11 b-tch With that tiny shirt mane And the tiny pants mane I’m on BasedWorld and I f-ck with cash Money my niggas. Don’t understand man The game like a chain Woo woo! Swag, b-tch, Brang-dang-dang man Off the top, I’m a Wolfpack hitter My life just a painting And I paint you a picture, mane Thing about it: a young paid-ass nigga This that stunt music: b-tch, I just do’s it It’s Lil B and I’ll muthaf-ckin prove it We runnin’