| Yess! |
| What it look like Alc, tryin to show the niggas man
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| It’s that Street Fam man, we rep that
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| Loso, Street fi-di-di-di-dam yess!
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| I’m with (101) niggas, we (dalmation doggy) b (yess)
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| And fly with the tongue, so if you feeling froggy leap (come on)
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| Kermit, you better think before you ribbit
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| Don’t get murdered over your song, before you ad-lib it
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| I pop up like (Xzibit), but given I’m at your crib it’s (yeah)
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| Not to put no fucking fish tanks in your Civic (nah)
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| Fuck getting your (ride pimped), you’ll get hog-tied wimp
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| Have you in the trunk curled up like fried shrimp (ha ha ha)
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| It’s been a good year, maybe I should ride blimp (what you think?)
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| 'Cause your boy just stay above the game
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| They trying to tag him, spray a brother frame
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| But your shots can’t reach me, I’m way above your aim
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| Go 'head nigga, say another name (go 'head, go 'head)
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| Take this family for a joke, play them (Wayan brother) games
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| And (Ima Git You Sucka), I be schemin' with this (Keenan) (that's right)
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| Aimin with this (Damon), I’m putting that (Major Payne) in
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| My lil' man is on ya, (Marlon and Shawn) ya (yeah)
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| Lay the beef on his noodle, make some Luger lesagne (whoo!)
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| 40. Cal fettuccine, trey pound pasta
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| You reach for this medallion, you must like Italian nigga
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| You only see me pushing if the driver’s tired (yess)
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| I work the S6 ever since the 5 retired (yess)
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| The drop top, they say it’s (Ocean Drive) inspired
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| So you can (Call A Cab), once your bitch falls for Fab
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| Uhh, I get money like a muhfucker
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| Shades darker than a bitch, but I can see
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| I got everything, you got nothing
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| But you ain’t got nothing on me
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| Oww I’m gettin money like a muhfucka
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| Yeeaah, money you ain’t never see
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| Yeeaah, I got everything, you got nothing
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| But you ain’t got nothing on me
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| Mr. HD, high definition
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| That’s how I’m comin' at you niggas ya digg
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| It’s Santana Ay! |
| Hahaa
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| I’m on the grind 'til the police come (yeah)
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| With that pistol on my side boy, don’t be dumb
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| Or, I let that semi twirl ya (get 'em)
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| Now you can follow the drip
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| 'Cause one shot outta the clip’ll jerry curl ya (oooh)
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| Leave you sloppy like seconds, obey me like peasants
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| Or get opened up like presents, please
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| My young boys wildin for respect
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| Slit your throat have you smiling with your neck, say cheese
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| My dough’s a bit longer, my flow is just slaughter (yep)
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| My wrist look like fro-zen polar spring water (damn!)
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| So tell me boys, tell me boys, who you think you messing with? |
| (who)
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| I get money out the ass, that’s some expensive shit (eeuw)
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| Haven’t you all heard? |
| (what?) Y’all all herbs (yep)
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| I stick toothpicks (where) in y’all hors d’oeuvres
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| (Listen) I’m a shark y’all just koi fish
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| (What else?) octopus (what else?) oysters (haa)
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| Chump, I got my eye on your wifey now (yeah)
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| I have her lick me up, (up) and then wipe me down (down)
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| She told me youse a nag, youse a bug (damn)
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| She told me I’m a blast, I’m a stud (damn)
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| She told me you be be beasting, you be checking for the burns
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| So I gave her knee-pads for the rug (haa)
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| It’s skull gang from the chain or the lifestyle
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| You surfboard dudes get wiped out, totally
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| Uh huh uh huh uh huh, check me out
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| Get you 3,4 get you
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| Like the number after 1, I’ma get me 2
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| It’s Weezy F U, now you gotta have a baby
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| My money don’t folds nor bends
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| Mercedes Maybach, grey-black
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| And I got a 44. and a 'K, like 8 stacks
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| Fuck your city and your town, I state facts
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| Take that, no better yet like Diddy «take that»
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| Wait rats, I hate rats, I clean 'em out like Ajax
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| Got paper like a fax machine, asaneen
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| Damn I mean asinine, I’m dapper don
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| And after mine there will be nine, damn I mean there will be none
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| I will be one, of the greatest things you’ve ever felt, you’ve ever seen
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| Or heard, Car-ter, hov-er, y’all scared, not me
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| Not I, call me young Popeye
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| Tell Bruno I’m a noo-no, I bring ral to your fune
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| Damn I mean funeral, funeral
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| You say tomato, I say tomato
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| You say get 'em, I say got 'em, yeah I got 'em
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| Man you better keep paying me, 'cause you don’t want my problems
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| I be wildin like (Capital One «What is in your wallet?»)
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| You fly, but what is it to pilot?
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| Weezy I’m at the top, foot up in your bottom
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| Huuh, damn I mean, foot up in your ass
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| I kick that shit, now go’n put it in the trash |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song You Ain't Got Nuthin , by - Lil Wayne. Song from the album Tha Carter III, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп