Big Bad Wolf

Lil Wayne

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    I'ma just say this shit right here
    The greatest mixtape series of all time
    Care to debate me?
    Uh-uh-uh-mmm
    Yea, I thought so
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

    Keep that shit on Twitter
    Y'all ain't lit, y'all litter
    Keep that shit in your shitter
    Or eat that shit, don't spit up (Rrr!)
    Keep my bad bitch did up
    Keep my main bitch, put up
    Watchin' me do push-ups
    She was playin' with herself and I looked up (Damn!)
    Your thot need to get her look up
    You plottin' on me, my foot up
    Your squad ain't hard, that's cushion
    That ain't sauce, that's puddin'
    Tunechi across her bosom, damn!
    Shootin' up the jurors, damn!
    Don't name my pistol
    I name the trigger, Benjamin Button, push 'em (Bam!)
    Y'all just pussy, get buried together and let 'em play footsie
    Y'all just wussy
    I got some bullets, gon' pull up in hoodies and come take a look-see
    Better play hooky

    I got some hookers hookin' up with some politicans
    And some athletes and some college niggas
    Send your missus on all kind of missions
    I'm the sickest nigga skippin' doctors visits
    But my pots is pissy, smokin' hockey sticky
    Put a stockin' on my face and hit a lick in'
    When shit get ugly, I go Pretty Ricky
    I don't fuck with rats, neither Minnie, Micky
    I don't fuck with cops, that's the piggly wiggly
    Fuck my bitch's friends, and they friendly-friendly
    While your bitch givin' me her twenty-twenty like she tired of Mickey-D's
    Wendy's, Denny's like she tired of Macy's
    JC Penny's, I got bitches gettin' tired of spendin', spend it
    If we winnin', win it
    I know Dream Chasers that ain't never dreamt it
    So I had to tint it and I had to rim it
    And I worked the lanes like Shaq and Penny
    It's the Blood gang, it's the money gang
    Red rags to riches, need happy endings
    Then it's back to business and we laugh at sentencin'

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    Hungry lawyers make a snack out witnesses
    Hungry artists or starvin' artists in the kitchen
    Restaurant and cafeterias
    Don't make a difference if you taste the difference
    Better pay the difference to the racketeers
    Now your good luck lookin' like you crackin' mirrors
    Now the artificial become sacrificial
    That's a body count, where the mathematician?
    Where the wettest clitoris and fattest nipples?
    With an ass that jiggle with a grab or tickle
    With a throat deep enough to land a missile
    If ya nigga miss you and he have opinions
    Tell him two cents is only half a nickel
    Now we at his villa, aiming at his pillows
    Hair triggers, fingers finna act like bristles
    And I catch a triple, flip kick jiu-jitsu
    Throwin' pool parties, she don't have a swimsuit
    Neither of her friends do, I think that's official
    Got my neighbor's eyes bigger than the Simpson's
    And I'm magnificent so I had to pimp her
    And she had potential but he lacked credentials

    So give me a sec', I'll go at your neck
    And send you back lookin' like the Dracula bit you (Rrr!)
    Yeah, cannibalism goin' animalistic in a land of civilians
    These niggas clones, copycats, and chameleons
    Once they dead and gone, no paraphernalia
    When she left her thong, that's paraphernalia
    Sound familiar? My plug's Sicilian
    He the one who told me that sometimes you gotta leave ya la familia
    Behind the millions
    Rhyme or reason
    I'm the reason, got they eyes wide but too blind to see it
    With friends like those
    It make me text all my enemies and tell 'em I don't need 'em
    Hallelujah, power intruders
    Bitch walk around my house like Hooters
    Towel user, power user
    Molly mixed with white girl, Molly Susan
    Niggas talkin' out their bowel movers
    Turn they homies into flower choosers
    Turn your kids into father choosers

    Make your bitch a widow and your mom a cougar
    I'm a silent shooter with a silent shooter
    Clap at you, if you don't die, I'll boo ya
    Tell a doc that's tryna to save your life and runnin' wires through you
    He could die next to ya (Rrr!)
    I'ma make the nurse ride me like a giant scooter
    Let her partner shoot it
    We pull out the movie, win awards
    She got a Golden Globe head and an Oscar booty
    Niggas prostitutin', these rappers ain't talkin' 'bout shit
    Not even 'bout pollution
    Ain't got a house to live in, ain't got a pool to swim in
    Change in their pockets, nor a couch to lose it
    In route to Houston with a contribution full of Monster juices
    Monster too slow, macho Cujo macho mucho
    Big bad wolf, watch the moon glow (Rrr!)
    I got a Greek freak, she call me Antetokounmpo
    Just follow the kupo and I know that you know
    I'm hotter than soup, she still swallow my soup bowl
    I'm out of my loophole, you outta the loop, though

    Got all these niggas on silent and mute mode
    The power to do so, my pockets is sumo
    Gettin' the mula by the minuto
    Mafia Nuvo, I am the uno
    Real boss nigga, should model for Hugo
    Fuck with me, I go Lolapaloozo
    Pull up trigger finger, holler, and pull up
    (Pah, pah, pah)
    Sound like a symphony or Opera, tudo
    Hittin' some new notes
    And I am the maestro and you just a typo
    Private flight, don't fly in too low
    I'm wiser than you know, a private school flow
    I got me a new ho and now it's a duo
    One went to college and one went to juco
    I had to ask 'em, what's four plus two though? (Rrr!)

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