| Face ass
|
| No Ceilings, hah!
|
| No Ceilings
|
| Yeah, no
|
| (Got 'em)
|
| I’m standin' at a table full of choppas, nigga
|
| I’m sippin' on the maple, Aunt Jemima, nigga
|
| And trust me, nigga, you don’t want no drama, nigga
|
| Cause I swear we all nuts, John Bobbitt, nigga, woah
|
| If you ain’t got no skaters you ain’t poppin', nigga
|
| If you ain’t got no skaters you ain’t poppin', nigga
|
| If you ain’t got no skaters you ain’t gnarly, nigga
|
| Yeah you see us, we just skatin', you just fallin', nigga, woah
|
| She tryna put this money in her stocking
|
| She kinda thick as fuck and got some knockers, woah
|
| My niggas really Blood, and you just spotting whoa
|
| We all over the bread like a Sloppy Joe
|
| And when I’m in the pussy I’m a boss, knock her off
|
| My enemy don’t cross the line I draw, respect my art
|
| Man I swear to God, these pussies soft like a moth
|
| Weezy baby, diaper off, different cloth, different thoughts
|
| Sippin' syrup like it’s broth, life is short
|
| Tart, fuck his bitch, whip his kids, drive his car
|
| I’m grindin', tryna stack a hundred commas
|
| Just popped a combo, I ain’t talkin' bout McDonald’s, woah
|
| I’m standin' at a table full of choppas
|
| I’m standin' in the Maybach cause it’s topless
|
| I’m standin' at a table full of options
|
| Different bitches, different flavors, different toppings
|
| And we ain’t got no traitors in our posse
|
| And really I’m just wavy and I’m saucy
|
| And really I’m amazing and I’m awesome
|
| My whole squad lit, nigga, arson
|
| If you ain’t got no skaters you ain’t gnarly nigga
|
| If you ain’t been to Vegas, you ain’t party nigga
|
| Shout out to Lil Capito and Marley nigga
|
| I’ve been fuckin' with them since Atari, nigga
|
| And me, I’m a lil 504 New Orleans nigga
|
| I be in 305 though like a Marlin, nigga
|
| And Hoody, he from Texas, bitches boppin', mane
|
| And since I met him, I ain’t ran out of drank, whoa!
|
| When we leave H-Town, it’s in a fish tank
|
| Glass house Chevrolet, you can see everything
|
| Bad bitches with cocaine nose rings
|
| Give it up to real niggas and expose lames
|
| Cold game, got me in the Mulsanne
|
| Killin' these streets, audio drug slang
|
| If you don’t collect Ferraris, you ain’t poppin' nigga
|
| You could learn Italian in my driveway, bitches
|
| If it ain’t OG I ain’t coppin'
|
| Don’t smoke, we just throw it in the garbage
|
| Them niggas ain’t tough, they just talkin'
|
| Outchea after dark, them niggas targets
|
| Horror movie writer, I be with the monstas
|
| Trill surround us, you might not make it out 'em
|
| Phone calls in the morning say they found him
|
| Whole hood wanna see what y’all gon' do about it
|
| Rolled up on the front porch at my grandma’s house
|
| Watchin' Blood Sport through the screen door
|
| What you know about gunshots? |
| Ever seen war?
|
| I’ve really seen more than I talk 'bout, nigga
|
| Stuntin' on streets you’re scared to drive down
|
| Our town, children be firin' live rounds
|
| Hug the ground cause the shit gettin' serious
|
| Fuck around, get killed unintentional
|
| While I’m outchea eatin', nigga, Whole Foods
|
| Rollin' up straight gas, fresh produce
|
| I’m the guy that you go to, criminal smooth
|
| Digital moves, triple the loot
|
| Hopped on the phone, called the lot, «Gimme the coupe»
|
| I thought of Tune, called back, told him, «Give me two»
|
| That’s what I do
|
| If you ain’t got no Daytons you ain’t poppin', nigga
|
| One time for my lowriders hoppin', nigga
|
| Yeah, eah, eah
|
| Nah, nah nah, nah
|
| Yeah |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Poppin Them Bottles , by - Lil Wayne. Song from the album Walk It Off, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп