Birdman & Lil Wayne: Spitter
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Birdman & Lil Wayne: Spitter
Verse 1:
What ya mammie told ya
Bout fuckin round with them soldiers
Told you I'll be back, I'm comin
I got that Tommy Lasorda
That's blood all over ya sofas
Blood all over ya posters
Blood all over ya shoulders
Blood all over the strollers
Do that shit, I done that shit
It's Weezy baby, he's a baby
But that nigga run that shit
Make that money come back quick
Take that money from that bitch
She know what it be, M.O.B.
Pistol right there in my reach
You know what it be, him or me
Bitches know when that limo leave
Two words, room key
Where, pimp house suite
Where, not a damn thing
I'm here, botta bam bing
My hand bling, my wrist bling
My neck bling, my ear bling
Super Bowl ring bitch
Cash Money, Young Money
Super Bowl team bitch
Money, money, money, money
I'm true to those things bitch
You with those pussy hoes
I shoot at those queens bitch
This is New Orleans bitch
Murder, dope fein shit
Verse Two:
What ya Pappi told you
Bout fuckin round with them soldiers
I told you I'm coming back
I got that Tommy Mottola
That's blood all over ya Rover
Blood all over ya shofer
Blood all over ya loafers
If I get any closer
That's blood all over my toaster
Blood all over my holdster
I'm in them S dots
That's blood all over my Hovas
Fuck
I'm hustlin with a motive
My niggas need me
And that tiger in my pocket say "feed me"
It's greedy
See them niggas, jack them niggas
Kill them niggas, wack them niggas
Asks them bithces, ask them niggas
Weezy baby, that's the nigga
Catch me mashin in a V
Matchin seats, matchin feet
Sheesh, that bitch to sweet for the street
Got that key, fittin to leave
If he fittin to beef
No need to speak
Let it be what it be
Niggas want peace
I'll make them leave here
Piece by piece
Fuck me, fuck you
What it is, what it do
I been ready since 81
And I was born in 82
Hollygrove where I'm from
But we call that bithc the zoo
I ain't never trust a bitch
Since she ate that forbidden fruit
Sucker free, sucker proof
50 shots, cut em loose
Quarterback, Weezy baby
Shotgun, run and shoot
Coming through
Youngin do what youngin do
Ball baby
At home fornicating
Homie by the phone waitin
God damn
I am
A man
The man
The mo, therfuc, king pre, sident
Bitch
What ya mammie told ya
Bout fuckin round with them soldiers
Told you I'll be back, I'm comin
I got that Tommy Lasorda
That's blood all over ya sofas
Blood all over ya posters
Blood all over ya shoulders
Blood all over the strollers
Do that shit, I done that shit
It's Weezy baby, he's a baby
But that nigga run that shit
Make that money come back quick
Take that money from that bitch
She know what it be, M.O.B.
Pistol right there in my reach
You know what it be, him or me
Bitches know when that limo leave
Two words, room key
Where, pimp house suite
Where, not a damn thing
I'm here, botta bam bing
My hand bling, my wrist bling
My neck bling, my ear bling
Super Bowl ring bitch
Cash Money, Young Money
Super Bowl team bitch
Money, money, money, money
I'm true to those things bitch
You with those pussy hoes
I shoot at those queens bitch
This is New Orleans bitch
Murder, dope fein shit
Verse Two:
What ya Pappi told you
Bout fuckin round with them soldiers
I told you I'm coming back
I got that Tommy Mottola
That's blood all over ya Rover
Blood all over ya shofer
Blood all over ya loafers
If I get any closer
That's blood all over my toaster
Blood all over my holdster
I'm in them S dots
That's blood all over my Hovas
Fuck
I'm hustlin with a motive
My niggas need me
And that tiger in my pocket say "feed me"
It's greedy
See them niggas, jack them niggas
Kill them niggas, wack them niggas
Asks them bithces, ask them niggas
Weezy baby, that's the nigga
Catch me mashin in a V
Matchin seats, matchin feet
Sheesh, that bitch to sweet for the street
Got that key, fittin to leave
If he fittin to beef
No need to speak
Let it be what it be
Niggas want peace
I'll make them leave here
Piece by piece
Fuck me, fuck you
What it is, what it do
I been ready since 81
And I was born in 82
Hollygrove where I'm from
But we call that bithc the zoo
I ain't never trust a bitch
Since she ate that forbidden fruit
Sucker free, sucker proof
50 shots, cut em loose
Quarterback, Weezy baby
Shotgun, run and shoot
Coming through
Youngin do what youngin do
Ball baby
At home fornicating
Homie by the phone waitin
God damn
I am
A man
The man
The mo, therfuc, king pre, sident
Bitch
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