So Little Wayne What's your motivation? Is that really a question? Do you really have that written down in your notepad You should be ashamed of yourself You smell me, girl I smell like money See, that's what they don't understand To me it was always get money or die I come up under Birdman the Number One Stunner You know what I mean I'm stunner junior Tha's all I know, that's all I ever knew Get money or get nothing You know what I'm saying and I feel that way for real So hard I go I keep pushing The game's so crazy I'm in it like deep pussy I got chip from trying to get the whole cookie Used to make a thousand dollars everytime I played hookie Dwayne Carter absent keep looking I'm present on the block, I'm a legend on the block Ice so bright like heaven on the watch Yeah nigga, I done dropped one eleven on the watch So watch and see what I do Breeze by you so fast, got you sneezing hachoo They got the shivers, mayne I got the fever I got to bring the hood back after Katrina Weezy F. Baby now the F is for Fema Sick nigga bitch I spit that Leukemia Yeah, no cure, no help, so me, so good, so hard, so felt Feel me And that's just my point right there That's what I'm always trying to stress, you know what I'm saying If you don't understand me, if you don't feel me then you ain't real In my eyes, and that's all that count to me you know So, is your music considered the voice of Urban America or America period I mean, I would say the voice of the hood 'cause thats who I speak for And myself, you know what I mean, my family, that's who I represent My hommies, my girl, my life, you know C'mon, bang this shit, nigga, pump my shit You gotta bang that wimp and go and dump that bitch You gotta claim that strip and go and flood that bitch You gotta aim that shit and straight bust that shit Like motherfuck them niggas what they wanna do I'm ready Tevin Campbell, no homo, black Rambo Fucking with the boy, baby, that's a cambo If he won in Vegas leave him on the crap table I'm willing and I'm able to come run up in your stable Like nobody make a sound, "Where the paper? Where the paper?" Gotta get it, gotta have it, once I got it I'mma spend it Then it's back to doing any damn thing just to get it The re-ups be like birthday parties No room to park the cars in the garages So outside the cribs all you see is the roggies If I ain't say it right, fuck it, I ain't foreign Feel me And see that's where everybody get me wrong at You know what I mean I got that heat rock, for real Why do you think other rappers lack the impact of your music? That's because they ain't got that heat rock like me You know what I mean They ain't spitting like me, they spitting But, know what I mean, they ain't got colds I got the flu over here man, for real I need relief, y'all help me, for real I know y'all sick of me 'cause I'm tired of y'all for real And based on the bank, I'm doing much better Than a lot of these niggas, I'm tired of these niggas Yawning when I see them make me stretch and pull the burner I'm cocking back and passing, they catch 'em in they sternum Ooh, that gone probably burn ya, that gone probably learn ya To never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever come around here no more Rich gangsters over here, you gotta die with the broke bitch I'm the God I should ride with the Pope But the boy so hood I just ride with my hoe, yeah yeah And tell 'em 'bout Hollygrove Tell 'em 'bout my last show Tell 'em 'bout my last hoe You know just born to mack Call me Dione Sanders bring the corner back, yeah I'm in my prime niggas falling back That's right, I'm coming, baby, yeah, hard as crack Feel me And that's just what it is, nigga If you don't like my shit then fuck you and your shit, man, straight up That's how I was tough, that's how I was brought up And that's how I'ma go down, man, for real Cash-money, young-money in your motherfucking throat bitch Swallow slow Weezy F. Baby this interview is over, go to the next song Bitch © WARNER-TAMERLANE PUBLISHING CORP; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com