Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mama Mia, 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
Mama Mia |
What’s good, brother? |
Beat 'round the bush and I’ma come around with a bush cutter and look for you |
You niggas talkin' too much shit |
I’m about to find a good plumber |
Y’all lil' niggas is some foot soldiers, I’m a foot fungus |
You dead, brother |
I ain’t a killer, but don’t push me, like a red button |
The gun headbutt you like «Bang, bang, bang, bang» |
'Til your heart stop drummin' |
I shoot you while the sun don’t shine, this a hot summer |
But fall dawg, I knock a wall off with this sawed-off |
This bitch sound like a hard cough |
I’m a wizard with this mothafucka like I went to Hogwarts |
Cut the hog head and the tail off |
I’m the nigga bitches put a spell on |
And once it wear off, then, bitch, don’t touch me like a airball |
Say slime, I done ate slime, money tall like 8'9″ |
But I’m still starvin' like a skinny model in LA slime, that plate mine |
Hooded up like Trayvon, no FaceTime |
I don’t FaceTime with my new thang |
New Tang clan, like Raekwon, I’m stupid, nigga |
Dumb, deaf, brazy, cray-cray, blind |
But I still see in the dark, nigga |
Dark nigga, Akon |
I’m on my shit like maggots |
And they then they grow and they fly |
Got real bitches with fake asses |
With real views and fake eyes |
It’s stupid, I’m stupid |
I’m out of my Kufi, narcotic abuser |
No needles, 'cause my pockets balloonin' |
Your partners is poodles |
Your bears is cubs, your crocodile’s toothless |
Titty-fuck your baby mama |
She breastfeed your child while I do it, I’m stupid |
Your crocodile’s toothless |
Titty-fuck your baby mama |
She breastfeed your child while I do it, I looped it |
(Mama Mia) |
I’m out of my Tunechi, I’m mindin' my Tunechi |
I’m shinin' my Uzi |
They find 'em, I lose 'em, I’m hidin' out |
Hopin' I don’t smell like all these fuckin' vaginas I’m douchin' |
Droppin' these jewels, it’s precious like I’m droppin' my jewelry |
I’m out of my Gucci, you not on my Gucci, that’s not an exclusive |
Designers, excuse me, massagers masseuse me |
Oops, I mean masseuses massage me, I’m gruesome, I’m grimey |
Turn you and lil' mami, to tuna salami |
You pukin', she vomit, that’s beautiful science |
That’s Tune in a Masi', that’s who in a Hyundai |
You stupid or drowsy? |
I pew in the 'Gatti |
Pew, pew and I got 'em, pew, pew and I got 'em |
Lil' Tunechi a shotta |
Come through with my shottas, catch you and your thotta |
Turn a nigga noodle to nada |
Find it amusin', it’s like it’s a movie |
This life is a movie, you died in the movie, I write and produce it |
I cried as I view it, I’m lyin', I’m goofin', I’m tyin' my nooses |
Lightin' my fluids, ignitin' influence, wait |
Retire like Ewings, I’m high like I flew in |
And my wife lookin' Jewish, wait |
My money look Arabic, blunt lookin' Cuban |
My eyes look Korean, the coke look Peruvian, wait |
She European and she from Aruba, she from the States |
Ass overseas, pussy foreign food, we overate |
We throw them B’s up high as the moon, suwu in space |
I come from Mars, but I act like I’m from the Planet of the Apes |
Mansion with a gate with some nice landscapes, the Atlantic across the way |
Don’t ask me what I make, I’ma be answerin' all day |
Got a hammock, I’ma lay with a naked bitch with just a bandana on her face |
And I just psstt, took off, errr- and landed on her face |
I cannonballed her face |
Fuck her to some Diana Ross and faint |
Damn, I lost the faith |
Don’t judge me, I took the stand and fought the case |
You can’t avoid the Drac' |
Drip Bayless, I’m feelin' Shannon Sharpe today |
Big rocks in my mouth, can’t remember how many asteroids I ate |
Your pastor called today, I told him that your casket on the way |
Now pass the phone to bae |
I’m bringin' a pole, you dancin' on his grave |
He faker than the lashes on his babe, I’m like lashes on a slave |
I’m ashin' on his head |
He ain’t got no credit and his Apple Card is dead |
What’s in your wallet? |
(Mama Mia) |
Funeral |