Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song John, artist - Lil Wayne.
Date of issue: 03.07.2011
Song language: English
John |
Fo' fo' bulldog, my motherfucking pet |
I point it at you and tell that motherfucker fetch |
I’m fucking her good, she got her legs on my neck |
I get pussy, mouth and ass, call it triple threat |
When I was in jail she let me call her collect |
But if she get greedy, I’ma starve her to death |
Top down, it’s upset, been fucking the world and nigga I ain’t come yet |
You fuck with me wrong, I knock your head off your neck |
The flight too long, I got a bed on the jet |
The guns are drawn and I ain’t talking bout a sketch |
I pay these niggas with a reality check |
Prepare for the worst but still praying for the best |
This game is a bitch I got my hand up her dress |
The money don’t sleep so Weezy can’t rest |
An AK47 is my fucking address, huh |
I’m not a star, somebody lied I got a chopper in the car |
I got a chopper in the car |
I got a chopper in the car |
Load up the choppers like it’s December 31st |
Roll up and cock it and hit them where it hurts |
Cause if I die today, remember me like John Lennon |
Buried in Louis, I’m talking all brown linen, huh |
Big black, and an icey watch |
Shoes on the coupe, that got a Nike shop |
Counts the profits you could bring 'em in a Nike box |
Grinding in my Jordans kick em off they might high, swish! |
I’m swimming in a yellow bitch, boss |
In the red 911 looking devilish |
Red beam make a nigga sit down |
Thought it were bullet proof till he got hit the fifth time |
Drop? |
Make it come back even harder than before |
Baby I’m the only one that paid your car notes |
Well connected I got killers in Chicago |
I’m not a star, somebody lied I got a chopper in the car |
I got a chopper in the car |
I got a chopper in the car |
Load up the choppers like it’s December 31st |
Roll up and cock it and hit them where it hurts |
Cause if I die today, remember me like John Lennon |
Buried in Louis, I’m talking all brown linen, huh |
Talk stupid get ya head popped |
I got that Esther, bitch I’m red fox |
Big b’s, Red Sox |
I get money to kill time, dead clocks |
Your fucking with a nigga who don’t give a fuck |
Empty the clip, then roll the window up |
Pussy niggas sweet, you niggas cinnabun |
I’m in a red bitch, she said she finna come |
200 thou on a chain, I don’t need a piece |
That banana clip, let Chiquita speak |
Dark shades, Eazy E |
Five letters, YMCMB |
Bitch ass Nigga, pussy ass nigga |
I see ya looking, with your looking-ass nigga |
You know the rules, kill em all and keep moving |
If I died today it’d be a holiday |
I’m not a star, somebody lied I got a chopper in the car |
So don’t make it come alive |
Rip ya apart than I put myself together |
YMCMB, double M, we rich forever |
The bigger the bullet the more that bitch gon bang |
Red on the wall, Basquiat when I paint |
Red Lamborghini till I gave it to my bitch |
My first home invasion, pocket gain and 40 bricks |
Son of a bitch, than I made a great escape |
Ain’t it funny momma, only son be baking cakes |
Pull up in the sleigh, hop out like I’m santa claus |
Niggas gather round, I got gifts for all of y’all |
Take it home and let it bubble thats the double up |
If you get in trouble that just mean you fucking up |
It’s a cold World I need a bird to cuddle up |
I call the plays, muthaf-ck huddle up |
I’m not a star, somebody lied, I got a chopper in the car |
Yeah |