[Intro: Samples]
"Yo, yo"
"Yo"
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
.44 bulldog—my motherfuckin' pet
I point it at you and tell that motherfucker, "Fetch"
I’m fuckin' her good, she got her legs on my neck
I get pussy, mouth, and ass—call that bitch 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 cum 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
Prepared 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
And AK-47 is my fucking address, huh
[Chorus: Rick Ross + Lil Wayne]
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 niggas where it hurts
If I die today, remember me like John Lennon
Buried in Louis, I’m talking all brown linen, huh
"Yo, yo"
"Yo"
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
.44 bulldog—my motherfuckin' pet
I point it at you and tell that motherfucker, "Fetch"
I’m fuckin' her good, she got her legs on my neck
I get pussy, mouth, and ass—call that bitch 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 cum 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
Prepared 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
And AK-47 is my fucking address, huh
[Chorus: Rick Ross + Lil Wayne]
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 niggas where it hurts
If I die today, remember me like John Lennon
Buried in Louis, I’m talking all brown linen, huh
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