Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Best Rapper Alive, artist - Lil Wayne.
Date of issue: 31.12.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Best Rapper Alive |
Bring the crowd and I’m loud _In Living Colour_ |
It is Weezy fuckin’baby got these rappers in my stomach |
Yumi, I’m takin’it I ain’t asking them for nothing |
If you sell a million records we can battle for ya’money |
I rather count a hundred thousand dollars on a sunday |
Watch a football game and bet it all on one play |
Still stuntin’baby yes I’m still flossin |
Latest car on the market wit the top peeled off it Big wheels make it look a lil bulky |
You look a lil salty have ya’self a chill coffee |
Chill out the girls is still out |
Even though I am a boss and got papers to fill out |
I’m busy I got paper to reel in God I hope they steppin’at the end of my rod |
And I hope I’m fishing in the right pond |
And I hope you catchin’on to every line |
Who am I? |
The Best Rapper Alive (4x) |
Swagger right (check) game tight |
And they gon R-E-S-P-E-C-T me |
(who) The Best Rapper Alive (4x) |
Swagger right (check) game tight |
And you should be afraid be very afraid |
The heart of New Orleans |
Thumpin’and beatin' |
Livin’and breathin' |
Stealin’and feedin |
Peelin’and leavin' |
Killin’and grievin' |
Dearly departed erased deleted |
No prints no plates no face no trace |
Out of sight out of mind |
No court no case |
Sell his chain celebrate block party second line |
Zulu ball essence fest jazz fest mardi gras |
Shorty bounce body rock |
Now he drop now he got |
Family cry tell the feds tell the cops |
Smell the rat comin’back to the house |
To the spot tap tap knock knock who is dat |
(Pow!)trigga man hoodie man tell the kids |
Boogie man pistol pete ammo mammal gun man blum blam! |
Damn Sammie you dun’fucked up Pussy ass niggaz put ya’nuts up Just call me Fuck up wit all these rookie MCs |
(whew!) smell like a bunch of pussy to me Fuck Em! |
Fuck 'em good fuck long fuck 'em hard |
Fuck who? |
Fuck 'em all |
(yeah)like dat jus like dat |
I’m on dat money train and the mac’ll knock 'em off track |
The quarterback well protected from the +Warren Sapp+ |
The young heart attack I spit dat cardiac |
You can’t see me baby boy you got dat catorax |
I’m right here straight out the hood jus like an alley cat |
Since everyone’s a king where the fuckin’palace at Me I got calus on my hand I can handle dat |
Its no problem baby I so got 'em |
Its just a victory lap baby I’m jus joggin' |
And I ain’t even out of breathe |
the motherfuckin’best yet sorry for cursing |
Who? |