What You Sayin - DJ E-Feezy, Lil Wayne

Hit you with no delaying so what you sayin' yo

Niggas ain’t paying so I just been laying low

I’m all about famo like Marlon Brando

My bitch go commando, I’m in command though

I hit you with ammo, quick as a Lambo

I play with her pussy hole like flipping channels

And my bitches is too live like Luther Campbell

And I’m spitting this shit though like I chew tobacco

Shimmy shimmy ya shimmy yay

I’ma kick a nigga in his mouth;

MMA

I’ma stick a semi in his mouth;

kissy face

I’ma lose the weight in the drought;

Ricki Lake

I’ma get the white and put it out;

Em & Dre

I’ma fuck her sisters and her mom;

Kim & Ye

They respect all my artistry like Hemingway

And they respect all of my martians, that’s why they give me space

Muthafucka now you see what’s up in my hand so what you sayin woe?

Cause I put yo fuckin' brains all on the dashboard

You not in my fuckin' lane you on the crash course

And if you feelin' froggy leap, I’m kidnapping yo tadpoles

I can’t remember the bitch name I fucked after my last show

When I say my cash low, I’m just telling a bad joke

Long hair, don’t care, no shirt like Fabio

Little nigga dreadlocks with a dick with an afro

(Woo-hah!) I got you all in check

I make her (Woo-hah!) and now she on my breath

I’m with my Goombah, we ridin' on your set

And we can shoot out 'till it’s quiet on the set

Boo ya like Stu Scott and peace up where he rest

Bitch I’m groundbreaking and I’m taking baby steps

I’m about to bust a rhyme;

nod yo head and break ya neck

I’ma kill these motherfuckas, you ain’t dead, fake ya death

I ain’t playing, I’ma hit you with no delaying and I ain’t paying ho

I come through me and my woes looking like Camp Lo

This is it, what?

Luchini falling from the sky

Let’s get rich what?

Boy, I been rich since 95'

Where you been boy?

Money talks and I’m about to send a invoice to them boys

Yeah I’m tried of this bullshit, I’m wilding, I’m too lit

I aim at yo toothpick, leave yo brains in yo boo tits

Yeah, I’m tied up with feds, put some guap on yo head

Now they can’t find your body, like the sock in the bed

This is it, boy, you done dug yourself a hole

That’s a pit, boy, that’s where I shit, boy

Uh, type of a nigga that’ll slap you with the tooley-o

It ain’t about what you smoke, it’s about who you smoke

My homeboy Hoody, yo, he real moody, yo

I tell him no bullet folks, he still do it tho'

They give you a funeral, you won’t be viewable

When Tunechi come thru' the door, them hoes get super soaked

Now do you really wanna party with me?

Let me sees whatcha got fo' me

Aye, do you really wanna party with me?

In Squad we trust!

Puffin' on that stuff, eyes low than Connie Chung

They don’t fuck with us cuz they know that we not the ones

Boy, we got them guns, scare the holy shit out the nuns

Yo, it’s young money, my nigga, you know we bout to bust

And everybody armed, more armed than Octopus

Write my name on my cups, so nigga know not to touch

Every time I bust a rhyme, another one bites the dust

Tunechi!

Busta, fuck wit me!