Cut the music up please
Yeah!

Lil Wayne
I play the bullshit from the back seat champ
yeah im in the back seat, still got the seat back
feet back stay from where the fack be at
niggaz snitch for the shyne where the patients at?
niggaz make his own brotha' face his back, give love than take it back
good grief man this world is quit heavy on my aching back
cops killin for crack
you know the story snakes eat rats
face the facts you cant change em
cant shoot it if ya cant aim it
cant miss him if he kill you than you cant blame him
that's just how the dice roll when you cant fade em'
get to deep up in that water than they cant save ya
me I come out of that water like I was just bathin'
and watch my step on the wet pavement, yeah
im from the hood so I rep it where I cant take em'
"Hollygrove Hollygrove" was his last statement,
so nigga get that look of ya face
and recognize you got a cook in the place
they call me W-E-E-crooked letter Y im so high
I skeet skeet in any nigga dime like she's mine
streets sweeper in the back of the hatch make me pop the latch
leave you bloody with the cops to match
bullet holes in ya speaker from the choppa' blast
like..........................
that's bullet holes in ya sneakers got you hoppin back
it dont stop when they hit in ya top and back, no cockin back
silly motha'fucka you aint heard bout' this
the clips hang down to the dick
that's a automatic shotty from a drum they call Tommy
guaranteed to get you bitches from by me
when I hit every piece of ya possible body
he leakin, ???? is no longer leapin he sleepin
why you pussy niggas is sleepin im thinkin
deep in thought the boy aint even winkin
"Bob Marley" got me stinkin,
stackin figures, im standin firm lifes a slinky
pipes is fillled with crack co-caine
and the dope go inside the veins
from where I came, though I bare a name only one can live with
coach they wont knock me off my pivot forget it
im sick a wit it
pick a city buy a condo find a fine hoe let some time go chill
what you know about bong rolled heaven of mind gold over a combo about doe nothin
man the 4-wheelers look so good on sand, a tank-top I can fan
no pocket nife no hand-gun in sight
just that rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat BOOM!
tonight I might just boost my feet ya price
cuz to eat ya zone, and the lights is bright
and im feeling like Mike at a Tyson fight
im from Cita house, Big Moma's house
she told me to shoot ya right after I knock ya out
and he aint gettin up after them shots if you hit him in the right spot
hold up, the beat might drop...