Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song B.B. King Freestyle, artist - Lil Wayne. Date of issue: 29.11.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
B.B. King Freestyle |
| Let's go |
| Ayy, the blues is now kickin' and dinner is three Michelin |
| I don't eat red meat, but still got beef sizzlin' |
| Know that I need discipline |
| I keep singin' for all these hoes, they keep listenin' |
| Niggas love to bro up with the boy and dap fists |
| But we are not equivalent, dawg |
| I been an only child, don't need siblings |
| And I'm past them like the times that he's livin' in, okay |
| Man, if you saw what I flew here, you be like "He's sickenin'" |
| If you not runnin' some top, we not gon' keep kickin' it- |
| No Ceilings 3 |
| Lil Wayne and Drake, let's go |
| Ayy, the blues is now kickin' and dinner is three Michelin |
| I don't eat red meat, but still got beef sizzlin' |
| Know that I need discipline |
| I keep singin' for all these hoes, they keep listenin' |
| Niggas love to bro up with the boy and dap fists |
| But we are not equivalent, dawg |
| I been an only child, don't need siblings |
| And I'm past them like the times that he's livin' in, okay |
| Man, if you saw what I flew here, you be like "He's sickenin'" |
| If you not runnin' some top, we not gon' keep kickin' it |
| Classics I keep scribblin', lights in the Universal building just keep flickerin' |
| Money just keep comin' in, you would think I'm Irish |
| The way that it stays doublin' |
| I could feed a country with the tax that I pay governments |
| Whatever they're doin' with my cash is very troublin' |
| Okay, February came around, I used to get paid shovelin' |
| Sold clothes, walked dogs, trust me, I stay hustlin' |
| When it came to school, there's no way that I'm A-plus'n it |
| So I just dropped out of it, trust me, I'm not proud of it |
| Niggas get too comfy in they spot, they get knocked out of it |
| Niggas get a gun just so they can make props out of it |
| Shawty make a scene in the house, she get locked out of it |
| Yeah, you not 'bout to be chillin' in this bitch with kicked feet up |
| I'ma make you bounce out this ho, like Big Freedia |
| Pete O. used to throw a purple ten on a two liter |
| First private plane I ever rode was a eight-seater |
| Before that, I got the bedroom hot with the space heater |
| On top of that, I didn't have shit to my name either, that's real |
| But now I'm givin' house tours 'til it's back to world tours |
| Play that "Mask Off" when they find the real cure |
| I might not be good for her, but I'm real to her |
| Got no time for her, but give Richard Mille to her |
| That's the only way I know how to express love |
| My dawgs love sticks and drums like they Questlove |
| All them jokes about Aubrey they got me messed up, for real |
| I come with a lot of complications inside me |
| It's always people misleadin' me that'll try and guide me |
| Everyone wants to try me, but no ones wants to buy me |
| Everyone wants to meet me, but no one wants to keep me |
| Everyone talkin' lemons when everything is peachy |
| Everyone got they hands out, and it ain't to reach me |
| Mhm, mhm |
| Everyone got they glass out, let's drink to Weezy |
| Every nigga that stare me down just came to see me |
| Trappin' up a lil' cash cow, that's steak I'm eatin' |
| Check deposits, high-risers with extra closets |
| The sex platonic, I talk intelligent, text Ebonics |
| The electronic guitars whinin', that's just Nirvana |
| Tommy gun on the counter I call it Mr. Thomas |
| That'll keep niggas honest |
| I'm dozin' off in the driver seat 'cause the seat give massages |
| That's some more point money, these numbers too steep for commas |
| I'm eye to eye with niggas, I can't help but to see beyond them |
| Got a two-seater problem |
| Niggas thinkin' they cold, I knock the flu-season out them |
| Bitches forget they hoes, and that's when Tunechi remind them |
| I used to fuck Gucci models, I'm fuckin' Gucci designers |
| I keep it 2-G regardless, I'm gettin' too deep for divers |
| Let me resurface, I'm flexin' on purpose |
| She especially curvy, bet she be servin' every purpose |
| Perfect, I'm better than perfect, I'm sick, I need to see a medical person |
| Eatin' all of these rappers with these edible verses |
| All I gotta be is all that I can possibly |
| She really, really into me, then suck it all up out of me |
| I'm proud of me, I don't know how to be sorry, apologies |
| You fuckin' with my math, you better know some trigonometry |
| 'Cause I'ma be bustin', leave your Lima bean at your mama feet |
| I flip the economy like Dominique Dawes |
| They say I'm trippin', I guess they wishin' I finally fall |
| I don't need war, I need a bitch that know I'ma need yours |
| I'ma need more, niggas is shifted, they like Honda Accords |
| Fire alarm, ain't got no ceilings, we climbin' the walls |
| Higher than yours, I fuck your bitch and she die in my arms |
| Lion has roared, No Ceilings 3 with my mind on the fourth |
| Holla at your boy |
| This that BB King, Lil Wayne featuring Drake |
| Classic shit (DJ Khaled) |
| No Ceilings 3, Lil Wayne |