Lil Wayne "Ice Cream" |
Young Money, syrup and a big shot Time to do the thing, that's word to ya wristwatch Shoot the glock til it burn, til my wrist lock Rims hella big, tires skinny like Chris Rock Hold the gun sideways like O-Dawg Shoot a nigga in his face, knock his nose off Make the girls say my name like roll call Pain killers gotta nigga bout to doze off Big shit nigga talk big shit nigga Big bread, bread like a picnic nigga Shake the whole game like the hit-stick nigga Money spread like germs get sick nigga Yeahhhh�. And fuck them other niggas 1-900-Who-Want-It, I deliver Concrete shoes won't help in the river I don't care if you's Michael Phelps my nigga I'm higher than the mutha fuckin Alps my nigga I'm flyer than a mutha fuckin stealth my nigga Ya-Young Money shit, top-shelf my nigga We the muthafuckas like M.I.L.F my nigga Uh-um� flow like syringes Yeah I'm in my mode gotta code like Da Vinci's I was in the trenches, now I'm in the trump And everybody watch ya back when you're in the front You ain't never safe, stop playin with a gangsta Bring it to his face and he ran like a flanker Bend a girl over put her hands on her ankles I'm all over this ice cream beat like sprinkles Why thank you! If you's a hater I'm eatin, you's a waiter Pistol on my hip, Tomb-Raider Holla atcha Guala, sue em later Young Tune nigga, typhoon nigga And if you think it's sweet, buy a room nigga Die mood nigga, I'm on my gang shit She give me good brain like she studied at Cambridge Lightin up a mutha fuckin blunt Stupid fruity swag like a mutha fuckin runt And I be with my dawg like a mutha fucka hunt And every day of the week is the first of the month Thought I worked at Kay's, with the diamonds in her face Can't tell the time, cause the diamond's in the face We can get it poppin like a semi-automatic And if ya got beef, I'll put the biscuit on the patty Rockstar tatted, big money addict Runnin this shit now I'm feelin athletic I-I'm on a boat bitch, getting seasick Stop playin I'm fresher than a Degree stick Street shit, well of course I smoke mad weed, I'm on my high horse Please don't shoot me down, I land feet flat Then walk a million miles with New Orleans on my back Ha.. I need a massage And when it come to hoes man I got a collage Finger on the button, nigga just stuntin If ya ain't the bank teller don't tell me nothin Kush so strong you can smell me comin Bitch I go hard like the boy from 300 You think ya'll kick it, well boy we puntin Young Money baby we the shit, big stomachs No Ceilings.. Lyric from www.lyricmania.com |