Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Funeral, artist - Lil Wayne. Album song Funeral, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 28.05.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Young Money
Song language: English
Funeral |
Welcome to the funeral, yeah |
Closed casket as usual |
Yeah, welcome to the funeral |
The quietest things in musicals |
Kumbaya is beautiful |
I bust in with that Uzi though |
And they look like they saw Lucifer |
Welcome to the funeral |
We not welcome, we intruded though |
You wanted smoke until you blew the smoke |
That’s just inexcusable |
Welcome to the funeral, where we from we ruin them |
Been to quite a few of them |
The reverend talk, we boo’in him |
We throw up the Piru at them |
Welcome to the funeral, closed casket as usual |
Soul snatching as usual |
Amen, hallelujah though |
Whole family delusional |
Niggas crying like two year olds |
Bullet holes come through the doors |
I just crossed my heart, then I threw a rose |
Damn, welcome to your funeral |
Everybody knew you bro |
Ain’t nobody shooting though |
Gotta die to see who you know |
Damn welcome to the funeral |
Where we from we ruin them |
The preacher preach we shooting them |
Now we need one for you and him |
That’s why they should cremate ya |
Hope when you die they commemorate you |
Life is a movie and it’s in theaters |
Some of y’alls already went to cable |
These shots from a far you could get a facial |
Black gun chrome gun, interracial |
Weed so strong, need ventilation |
Funeral home need renovation |
I got your mom’s teary eyed, that’s precipitation |
Nigga when you died, did your bitch a favor |
Nigga we gonna mob like the Genovese’s |
Nigga, fat mob, I’ma Jenny Craig 'em |
Drive bys in a Winnebago |
Snipers never hear the baby, crib a cradle of tomatoes on your head |
I split tomatoes from 100 feet away, now it’s a halo |
That’s tomato sauce, Heinz 57 |
Catch a nigga, you behind, where I left you |
I hate your bitch, your mom, and your fellas, kids, cousins, uncles, aunts, |
and your nephews |
Shoot a pussy nigga in the face, closed casket |
Look his pretty kids in the face, poor bastard |
Tears running down a bitch face, romantic |
Two straps, I’m up at the Oboe Jacksons |
In his face, closed casket |
Send him on the highway to heaven no traffic |
My lil nigga just caught a body, he ecstatic |
He cried tears of joy, then he got him tatted |
Welcome to the funeral, closed casket as usual |
Whole family delusional |
Amen hallelujah though |
Choir singing musicals, Kumbaya, it’s beautiful |
I bust in with the Uzi though |
They look like they saw Lucifer |
Yeah, welcome to the funeral everybody knew your bro |
Ain’t nobody shoot him though |
That’s just inexcusable |
Welcome to the funeral |
Where we from we ruin them |
Been to quite a few of them |
A nigga got immune of them |
Shoot a pussy nigga in the face, closed casket |
Huh, huh, bop |
Look his pretty kids in the face, poor bastards |
Goddamn, drive bys in a Winnebago |
Snipers never hear the baby, crib a cradle of tomatoes on your head |
I split tomatoes from 100 feet away, now it’s a halo |
In other words, a nigga dead |