John
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Fo’ fo’ bulldog: my motherfucking pet
I point it at you and tell that motherfucker "fetch"
I’m fucking her good, she got her legs on my neck
I get pussy, mouth and ass, call that bitch triple threat
When I was in jail she let me call her collect
But if she get greedy, I’ma starve her to death
Top down, it’s upset
Been fucking the world and nigga I ain't cum yet
You fuck with me wrong, I knock your head off your neck
The flight too long, I got a bed on the jet
The guns are drawn and I ain't talking 'bout a sketch
I pay these niggas with a reality check
Prepared for the worst but still praying for the best
This game is a bitch I got my hand up her dress
The money don’t sleep, so Weezy can’t rest
And AK-47 is my fucking address, huh
[Hook: Rick Ross]
I’m not a star, somebody lied, I got a chopper in the car
I got a chopper in the car, I got a chopper in the car
Load up the choppers like it’s December 31st
Roll up and cock it and hit them niggas where it hurts
If I die today, remember me like John Lennon
Buried in Louis, I’m talking all brown linen, huh
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Big black nigga in a icey watch
Shoes on the coupe, bitch I got a Nike shop
Count the profits you could bring 'em in a Nike box
Grinding in my Jordans kick 'em off they might be hot, swish!
I’m swimming in a yellow bitch in the red 911 looking devilish
Red beam make a bitch nigga sit down
Thought it were bullet proof till he got hit the fifth time
Drop palmolive in a nigga dope
Make it come back even harder than before
Baby I’m the only one that paid your car notes
Well connected got killers off in Chicago
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
Talk stupid, get ya head popped
I got that Esther, bitch I’m Redd Foxx
Big B’s, Red Sox, I get money to kill time, dead clocks
Your fucking with a nigga who won’t give a fuck
Empty the clip then roll the window up
Pussy nigga sweet, them niggas Cinnabon
I’m in a red bitch, she said she finna come
200 thou' on a chain, I don’t need a piece
That banana clip, let Chiquita speak
Dark shades, Eazy E, five letters, YMCMB
Bitch ass nigga, pussy ass nigga
I see ya looking, with ya looking ass nigga
You know the rules, kill them all and keep moving
If I died today it’d be a holiday
[Verse 4: Rick Ross]
I’m not a star, somebody lied
I got a chopper in the car, so don’t make it come alive
Rip yo ass apart then I pull myself together
YMCMB, double M, we rich forever
The bigger the bullet the more that bitch gon' bang
Red on the wall, Basquiat when I paint
Red Lamborghini till I gave it to my bitch
My first home invasion, papi gave me 40 bricks
Son of a bitch, then I made a great escape
Ain't it funny momma, only son be baking cakes
Pull up in the sleigh, hop out like I’m Santa Claus
Niggas gather round, got gifts for each and all of y’all
Take it home and let it bubble that's the double up
If you get in trouble that just mean you fucking up
It’s a cold World I need a bird to cuddle up
I call the plays, motherfucker huddle up
[Hook]
