| Ugh
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| Arms
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| Ayo, it’s Weezy Motherfucking, easy with the hating
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| Bitch, I’m in the building, you’re just decorating
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| I’m just detonating, then I get blatant
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| More dangerous than Internet dating
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| Scoob got the cameras on, so I gotta show off
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| I’ll put your sister on, I’ll knock your bro off
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| Weezy spit snowballs, catch it in your face bitch
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| Good-Game Wayne, man, I deserve a Naismith
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| Cook 'caine game flow, dope in the vein flow
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| I only be smoking the purple out the rainbow
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| Stronger than Drano, your boyfriend a lame-o
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| And if you stay with him, then y’all in the same boat
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| Deep-Water Carter, fishing for a dollar
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| You can join the salad, I’m splitting your tom-a-ta
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| Ball 'cause I gotta, you’ll love me in the morning
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| I told her I’m a king, them other niggas Prince Charming
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| She love to rock my mic, she say there’s nothing like performing
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| Man, I’m in love with her grill. |
| George Foreman
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| Forewarning: Young Money’s armed
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| And we can shoot it out, I got the money drawn
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| Yeah! |
| Take that to the bank with you
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| I rock my hat to the side like I paint pictures
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| Smoke weed, talk shit like Lane Kiffin
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| Whole country in recession, but Wayne different
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| Huh, and I’m a Maybach rider
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| Haven’t drove it one time, I got a cool, black driver
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| Can’t walk around with guns, I got a dude that got 'em
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| Don’t worry if I’m shooting 'long as you don’t get shot (Arms)
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| And I’m a beast, I’m a pitbull
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| I get my ass kissed, I get my dick pulled
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| I—I'm a beast, I’m a big bull
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| I got my money right, I got my clip full
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| Yeah, it’s, like, seven in the morning, nigga
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| I’m up for whoever the opponent, nigga
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| Stop the track—let me relish in the moment, nigga
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| Now, bring that motherfucker back, 'cause I’m zoning, nigga
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| I go hard like Rafael Nadal
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| And if the bitches worth having, then I bet we have 'em all
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| And man, I’m so high, it’s like an everlasting fall
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| And I’m charging these hoes like women basketball
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| Ugh! |
| I bet that chopper get his mind right
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| Leave a hole in his chest like a lion bite
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| Superhero car, like I crime-fight
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| I see big cheese, you niggas blind mice
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| Ugh, T-Streets still roll with me
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| Still sticking to the script, like Nicole Kidman
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| Need the man hit? |
| We are those hitmen
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| He stopped running; |
| the bullet holes didn’t
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| Ugh, basically, I’m still a monster
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| 'Til the fat lady sing—I come to kill a opera
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| Y’all too plain, I’m a helicopter
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| My words keep going, like a teleprompter
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| I’m a asshole—wipe me down, bitch
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| I get big checks—Niketown, bitch
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| Yeah, mean mug, Bobby Brown shit
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| And the flag red, like clown lips (Arms)
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| Ugh, T, I can’t stop going
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| Drop my best shit, like the Cowboys dropped Owens
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| I’m the best to ever do it, motherfucker, I know it
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| No Ceilings, goddammit, now the fucking sky showing, ugh!
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| Ha ha ha ha ha! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Banned , by - Lil Wayne. Song from the album No Ceilings, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп