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Lil Wayne

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Ok, No Ceilings, motherfucker, good mornin'Dick in your mouth while you're yawnin', I'm goin' inGudda, why they started me? Marley, why they started me?I’ll bring it to your front door like you ordered meBack in this bitch, but a lot more richOn my Papa Bear shit, need hot porridgeGot a lot more shit than you can ever fathomA big-head nigga couldn’t even imagineThe shit I do, most doers never doneI'mma fuck this beat, ya bitch, ooh, ya better cumBet I run this shit, I don't run from shitI'll still beat your ass like a fucking drumstickWeezy Fucking Baby, baby, make the ladies come quickThe money can’t fit in my pockets but I'll bet that gun fitAnd I’m so unfit 'cause all I eat is rappersAnd these rappers ain't shit, I like my fast food fasterSyrup got me slow like a turtle 'round this hoAnd I'm flyer than the highest-flying bird around this hoWhat's the word around this ho? You'll get served around this hoYeah, you'll get served like a fucking hors d'œuvre around this hoI don’t splurge around no ho, no I don’t shine in front of no bitch'Cause after she get off my dick I be like "Find the front do' bitch"I don't know why in the fuck your bitch keep coming byI done fucked your bitch a hundred timesWhat the fuck your bitch got on her mind? My fucking dickI call her dickhead, spicy like a Big RedStrike you like a Bic head, your flow sick? My shit deadSillier than V. I. C. said, Soulja Boy and ArabYou should see my 11 year old daughter do they danceI call it the Nae-Nae dance, proud to be Nae-Nae’s dadGun on the waistline, leave you in the wastelandWe are not the same, I am a Martian, this is Space JamNo Ceilings, R. I. P. , AmenMotherfucking caveman, beating on my chestYoung Money, Cash Money, and I'm eating all the restNigga, no offense, sorry if you're offendedRiding high like I'm on 54 inchesMan, I'd rather chill with 54 bitchesCh-chill like, ch-chill like an Eskimo, let's get mo', let's get mo' bitchesAnd I be like "Let's get mo' bitches"Mr. Officer, stop arresting your bitchesStop lettin' the messy hoes mess with your businessMickey Mouse cheese, hip-hop Walt DisneySheesh, gosh, Oshkosh B’goshSmokin' on that Bob Marley, listenin' to Pete ToshI-I-I do me, no, I do three at a T-I-M-EWhy when we say we Young MulaThe bitches leave y'all and relay run to usAnd payday comes sooner than later 'round hereAnd you see my sharks like they got some bait around hereHey, you better stop the hate around thereBefore Tommy, Mac, and Nina debate around thereYeah, you see it in my face, I don’t careWhole court hearing, trial, and the case around thereI'm the best thing yet, I know I got that thing wetEverybody wanna be fly but don’t know where their wings atHuh, had to pause for a minuteNow I'm right back in it, like the drawers of the womenOn a scale of one to ten-n my girl be a twentyMy girls so bad make a nigga think he's sinnin'My goons so gritty, my goons is so with meHaters gotta go on itunes to go get meGators, matadors, baboons, and those grizzliesAll come out me when I'm on the micropho-N-EMic check, two, three; I am different like blue peeAnd my girls be half naked like Betty Boop beLike a hoopty, man, the boy been ridin'And I ain't gassed up, 'cause I'm more like a hybridYou think I'm stuntin', but no, I'm just survivin'And I’ve been here, but my soul is just arrivin'Look up in the air, it's a crow, it's a robinNo Ceilings, full dose, I'm prescribin'Medication free, and for meditation weSmoke some better tastin' weed that you’ll ever taste or seeS-H-A-R-P, as a tack, hotter thanRiding through the desert on a camel back, I done beenRiding through wherever with the hammer strapped, I ain't lyingI can do whatever if I'm planning thatSo I got my guns, let's dance, like FannypackAnd we cook the hard, cut the soft and bring the whammies backMafio, bitch, where your motherfucking family at?Call my nigga Gudda if you trying to get your mammy backAll up in another nigga's woman, I be ramming thatSeeing through these see-through niggas like they're laminateHip-hop so contaminate, I swear, just examine itAnd I'm such a philanthropist, the God to these EvangelistsI dress so Los Angeles, but I love Miami thoughI act so New Orleans, yes, I go PistachiosThat means I go nuts on any beat they throw at meAnd the bitches is so at me, and you know what they throw at meHa, No Ceilings
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