Let's Go

It's gravy nigg*. Believe it.
You hot? fck it. Hot as a firecracker.
(It's gravy too.) I got a mac in this bag.
(click clock) What you got? Glock. (Look)

Baby
nigg* I'ma tell ya straight off the bat
I got a mac in this bag with 20 grams of crack
And I'ma sit in the back seat of yo' 'Lac
Just in case I gotta snap, a firette to the chest
If I don't know s**t, I know cars and broads
I done ordered plenty hits and watched heads come off
And I done saw my nigg* get life behind them bars
To them dog hoes, nigg*, we scream "fk 'em all!"
I hustle hard in these city streets
I got my block on fire with my HB's
Spinnin' Benz in these drop tops double r
Cook a brick, flip 'em up, now I got 'em hard
And you can find me
Right up in them hallways, holdin' and totin'
Got the whole motherfkin block loaded and smokin'
nigg* know one thang: its some uptown s**t
If a nigg* get it fked, then we killin' a b*tch

Chorus
nigg* I'ma tell ya this, straight off the bat
I got a mac in this bag, with 20 grams of crack
Well let's go nigg*, see we can slide nigg*
Cuz if you hot, then I'm hot, let's ride nigg*
Look, I'ma tell you this, straight off the top
I got a blunt, and a glock, and a bag of rocks
Let's go nigg*, let's slide nigg*
If you hot, then I'm hot, let's ride nigg*

Lil Wayne
Better pay attention now so you don't forget later
I run the d*mn block, I oversee all of the paper
Don't make me take ya, play ya
I c*ck the glock and spray ya
Call it a caper, won't be no as-salama-laka
And J, he got the gauges, they c*cked and ready
Make me run up in ya places and pop ya daddy
Got them bricks rocked and heavy, let it be known
I cook it hard and cut 'em in zones and the money be gone
Then I hit a blunt to the dome, and ride when night falls
Supply the white raw, if there's a problem, knock ya wife off
Lock the spot down
Respect it young nigg*, I'm creepin' over
Now cut it with just a little bakin' soda, breakin' boulders
I take it out my holster and bakin' soldiers whenever
nigg* it's whatever, tell ya ma to call the reverend
You see me on the block with crack, gats, and weed
Rats, plats, and ki's, that's practically me

Chorus

Lil Wayne
See I'm a hustler, cut-throat, put rhymes in mom's muf*ler
You can't even count how many times the 9's bust at ya
Some of the, that you run with are, suckas bruh
None of ya, won't leave, without some bullets up in ya
can't hold me down, wodie wild
Cuz all that they can hear is loud screamin' and explosive sounds
They show me how to cook that brown and rock that white
No school, put that book back down, pick up that knife
See that's the real reason I hate to be on tour
I'd rather be back on the block with a bird of that pure
got it all wrong, thinkin' I'm all song
But yall gon' twist it and end up all gone
Dog-gone s, you not thuggers
I pop dozens of glocks, cousins, in my struggle
So stop frontin', it ain't gon' get ya everywhere
I'ma start bustin', and bullets h*t ya everywhere

Chorus x 2

Baby talks till end