Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Way Of Life, artist - Lil Wayne.
Date of issue: 31.12.2010
Song language: English
Way Of Life |
This how we gon' do this… |
Hook up the turntables, |
Wolfe, get on the keyboard… |
And we gon' run it, ya heard… |
Cash Money. |
Cash Money. |
Cash Money. |
Cash Money. |
Now let me slide in the Benz with the fished out fins, |
Hit the mall with my girlfriends, dish out ends. |
Cause you know it ain’t trickin' if you got it, |
Cop baby girl what she desire, it’s chump change mama. |
Marijuana Scholar… Knowin' what I got up in my styrofoam cup? |
That purple stuff. |
It was givin' to me at birth to stunt. |
So that’s why I cop the Bentley with the leather and the fur in the guts. |
(Ay, Ay, Ay.) |
Hold on, mami! |
Them whips on dubs. |
Cadillac truck, twenty-eights, no rubs. |
Slide in the Benz, fins, bubble-eye lens, |
Car show in New York, Ya’ll know who wins! |
It’s the birdman, daddy, with the Gucci and Prada, |
Slant-back, cut truck. |
No rims? |
Can’t holla. |
It’s that Louie/Fendi on Ostrich streets, |
It’s the tailer-made daddy, Mami, do you love me? |
Baby, I’ma a stunna. |
(Oh! Oh! Oh!) |
I ain’t gon' change it. |
(I told ya’ll…) |
Don’t — you — know, |
It’s a way of liffeee… (I told ya’ll…) |
Mama, do you want it? |
Cause I’m about to break it, (I told ya’ll…) |
Oooh, baby. |
Can’t stop the stuntin', |
Nooo, nooo… (Bring back that beat…) |
Pop one, pop two. |
Them new Nike shoes, |
Royal blue Jag on them twenty-two's. |
Flip white to green, 500 Degreez, |
In that Cadillac truck on them twenty-three's. |
I’m the boss of the game with the money and fame, |
All these naked women that pop ch&agne. |
And these marble floors stay high as Rick James, |
If you know my name, then you know my game. |
It’s lil' whodi from the hot block with ser’ous flow, |
Gotta get dough, cause ya’ll won’t feel me, bro. |
But ya’ll don’t here me tho… |
Till I’m rollin' down my window and my grill-ie show. |
And you know I’m prolly pumpin' through the hood on the twenty-fo's, |
Word! |
Rims pokin' out the side of the 'ERV, |
Glock have ya ribs pokin' out the side of ya shirt. |
I’m a seventeenth nigga and I ride for the turf. |
Whoo! |
Baby, I’ma a stunna. |
(I told ya’ll…) |
I ain’t gon' change it. |
Don’t — you — know, |
It’s a way of liffeee… (I told ya’ll…) |
Mama, do you want it? |
Cause I’m about to break it, |
Oooh, baby. |
Can’t stop the stuntin', |
Nooo, nooo… |
Ay… |
And my pinky glow… Cause my ring is so… |
Blingy-blingy, yo… Stop blinkin' though… |
We smoke — stinky, stinky dro, |
And we don’t cop them ency-wency O’s, |
And we don’t stop. |
Nah! |
We blow, fuck the peo-ple! |
Everywhere we go, we smell like E-yo. |
The birdman my paw, so that make me go… |
«Fllyy like an eagle!"Fo' sheezo! |
They think cause I stay at English Turn, |
That Stunna don’t have a O — Z to burn, (Light it up!) |
I go in each sto' and ball like a dog, |
Me and my nig’s, we ball like a dog. |
Cars on the streets, all on our lawn. |
Ice in my teeths, all on my arm. |
Tat’s in my face, my back, and my arm. |
(What?) |
Tat’s in MY face, my back, and my arm. |
Baby, I’ma a stunna. |
I ain’t gon' change it. |
Don’t — you — know, |
It’s a way of liffeee… |
Mama, do you want it? |
Cause I’m about to break it, |
Oooh, baby. |
Can’t stop the stuntin', |
Nooo, nooo… |
Yep… There it is!.. ya' lil' low-life… |
See, I’m a pro — fessional. |
You a rookie. |
Fuckin' game so serious… |
I could sell a hooker some pussy… |
Now, that’s some serious shit… |
Oh, yea! |
Bel’ieve that! |
Who we rollin' wit? |
We rollin' wit Cash Money! |
Oh, I forgot about «peace»! |
PEEACE! |
I mean… «Piece"of pussy, |
«Piece"of land, «Piece"of property… |
It’s just a mind game… |