Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song You Want War, artist - Lil Wayne. Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Song language: English
You Want War |
| Aw aw Aw aw! |
| Aw aw! |
| Peep me out, look! |
| Head bustin', black fatigues |
| So blunted, 400 degreez, it’s sweet |
| Nigga, respect me When you see tha left hand buggin', nigga, respect it But if you see tha left hand bustin', nigga, your disrespectin' |
| Took one to tha chest, I never die, I’m tha same brotha |
| Jump out and shoot K’s, let 'em fly, I’m tha same brotha |
| It’s a must they recognize that I’m untamed, brotha |
| Disconnect a boy like a damn change number |
| Uhhh, hang up and try again |
| I kill ya, wake ya up, and make you die again |
| Spark it up, and make a nigga block fry again |
| Go ta jail, and do life, not five ta ten |
| Me, Lil’Mario, and Toolie, that’s my man, fam |
| My niggas don’t give a Jean-Claude VanDamme |
| About’chu, 'cause we don’t play around |
| Bring tha K around, spray tha town, take tha ground |
| Take tha ground that you walk on Tap tha phones that you talk on Jam ya up and take your arms off |
| I hit you twice with tha sawed-off |
| And your nigga just watch your head fall off… fall off |
| You think ya love me, I shoot anybody that look suspicious (what) |
| I bust tha three-six until tha damn drum bust (what) |
| I hit tha hood, (I hit tha hood) be up in all black, (be in all black) |
| numb-nut |
| I run up in your house with a tommy gun, what |
| I’m standin’there like all mine |
| Run through your click like a weak defensive line |
| Doggy fresh |
| You want war, nigga, let’s beef… beef |
| We can do it how ya want, or take it to tha streets… streets |
| I’ll be dressed in camouflage, Ree’s on my feet |
| Through your air (through your air) leave ya burnin’like heat |
| What ya. |
| know, I’m tha one from tha T.C. |
| Chopper shooter, block bruiser, I’ll bet any G (any G) |
| On fire, nigga, label, that’s a HB |
| And if I can’t kill you. |
| killin’your family (family) |
| Think it’s a game, 'rilla, test my nuts, you’ll see |
| How fast I send shots through your 6V (6V) |
| Heads bust if ya really think it’s CMB |
| And I know you all know about Slim and B We get our ball on, nigga, drink Cristy |
| Me and Buck get head from meekos in Tennessee |
| Betta ask somebody, nigga, I been a G And the Baby still servin’niggas for ten a key… nigga |
| Aw, aw, aw, look |
| Call me big baller, Big Tymer, big pockets |
| Call me big stunter, big stick, or big body |
| Call me that lil’nigga with tha Role… fulla diamonds |
| Call me tha number one Hot Boy on fire |
| Fire, when you shoot outta town, then I’ma holler |
| With a crate of Crystile, couple of blunts, and a condom |
| Let him know if (let him know if) he down bad, that ain’t my problem |
| Ler him know if he come at me bad, then I’ma chop him |
| Ch-uh. |
| chop him |
| Put tha flame to him |
| All of a sudden tha thing hits straight through him |
| 'Cause I’m tha same nigga, pimper boy, Lil’Wayne |
| Thugged out, pants fall to my shoe strings |
| But since I use ta be. |
| doin’tha best at thangs |
| That mean I gotta wear a vest that day |
| I really think them niggas jealous… of tha sparkle in my necklace |
| He ain’t ready. |
| he ain’t ready |