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letra de i don't like the look of it - lil' wayne

gudda!

okay, i’m sippin on the syrup
got a n-gg- moving slow
i’m all about the money
what the f-ck you think i do it for?
b-tch don’t act like you don’t know
i’m killing all these rap n-gg-s
custom made casket for your motherf-ckin’ funerals
keep the women with me
sh-t i gotta keep like two or more
party everyday like we won the f-cking superbowl
chillin wit my n-gg- mack, he keep b-tches handy
white girl on the table, let ‘em sniff the nose candy
when i’m walking by the women say “who is that n-gg-?”
i reply: “hi, i am gudda gudda, that n-gg-”
i was raised in the home of the cap splitters
whip on 24’s, watch it crawl like a caterpillar
i come with a toy boy like a happy meal
and you’s a motherf-ckin’ duck, daffy dill
i’m from the school of hard knocks, where we scr-p and kill
pick the knife or gun and you can get the package deal
i’m hot n-gg-, burning everything around me
i was lost for a minute, took a while but i found me
the streets say i’m king, but the game will never crown me
realist n-gg- doin’ it, just ask the n-gg-s around me
so you can’t size me up or try to clown uh
shark in the water, jump in and i’mma drown ya
new orleans n-gg-, gun out, i’mma down ya
put n-gg-s to sleep like a motherf-ckin’ downer
i’m a great white, you’s a flounder
fish and a b-tch, i tuna everything around ya
u-haul gudda, moving everything around ya
it’s young money b-tch
at the top is where they found us n-gg-

uhh, goons on deck
marley don’t shoot ‘em
silence on the gun
watch a n-gg- mute ‘em
the coach in the booth
call me jon gruden
school these n-gg-s, they all my students
all jokes aside, i ain’t playin’ witcha
the weed broke down, like a transmission
the choppa spin him round, like a ballerina
b-tch i’m still spittin’ like i ate a jalapeno
i’m from uptown, my b-tch from argentina
my pockets on fat like joey cartagena
stunt so hard, it’s all y’all fault
and when it come to beef, give me a1 sauce
i ain’t worryin’ ’bout sh-t, everything paid out
you could catch me courtside in dwayne wade’s house
with a high yellow thick b-tch, with her legs out
cash money president but we in a red house
who the f-ck want it? make my f-ckin’ day
i blow your candles out, now n-gg- cut the cake
i gotta eat b-tch, like a run-away
y’all n-gg-s ain’t eatin’, stomach ache
okay, all these b-tches and n-gg-s still hatin’
i used to be ballin’, but now i’m bill gatein’
f-ckin’ with my iphone, b-mpin’ illmatic
i’m on the road to riches, there’s just a lil traffic
hair still platted, thuggin’ is a habit
keep my guitar, hip hop lenny kravitz
bunch of bad b-tches and i f-ck ‘em like rabbits
dope d-ck weezy, ya girlfriend an addict
uhhh
haha

- lil wayne

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