LIL WAYNE - What You Sayin Lyrics

Ft. Dj E-Feezy

(Intro)
You can't stop greatness!
How you gon' start reinventing the game
When we invented the game?
Dj E-Feezy
The Wolf of South Beach
The Album!

(Hook)
Hit ya wit no delayin' so what ya saying yo
Niggas ain't payin' so I just been layin' low
I'm all about famo like Marlin Brando
My bitch go commando, I'm in command tho'
I hit ya ammo, quick as a Lambo
I play wit her pussy hole like flippin' channels
And my bitches is too live like Luther Campbell
And I'm spitting this shit tho', like I chew tobacco

(Verse)
Shimmy shimmy ya shimmy yay
I'ma kick a nigga in his mouth, MMA
I'ma stick a semi in his mouth, kissy face
I'ma lose the weight in the drought, Ricki Lake
I'ma put get the white and put it out, Em and Dre
I'ma fuck her sisters and 'er mum, Kim and Ye
They respect all my artistry like Hemingway
And they respect all of my Martians
That's why they give me space muthafucka
Know ya see what's up in my hand so what ya saying wooo
Cos' I put yo fucking brains all on the dashboard, oh!
Ya not in my fucking lane ya on the crash course
And ya feeling froggy leap I'm kidnappin' yo tadpoles
I can't remember the bitch name I fucked after my last show
When I say my cash low I'm just tellin' a bad joke
Long hair don't care, no shirt like Fabio
Lil nigga dread locks wit a dick wit an afro
(oh ah) I got ya all in check
I make her (Ooh Ahh) and now she on my breath
I'm wit my goon by, we riding on yo set
And we can shoot out til' it's quiet on the set
Boo-ya like Stu Scott and peace up where he rest
Bitch I'm groundbreaking and I'm taking baby steps
I'm about to bust a rhyme, nod yo head and break ya neck!
I'ma kill these muthafuckers, ya ain't dead, fake ya death
I ain't playin', I'ma hit ya wit no delayin' and I ain't paying, hoe
I come thru' me and my woes looking like camp lo
This is a what? Gucci fallin' from the sky
Let's get rich what? Boy, I been rich since 1995
Where ya been boy
Money talks and I'm about to send a invoice to them boys
Yea I'm tried of this bullshit
I'm wylin' I'm 2 lit
I aim at yo toothpick, leave yo brains in yo boot tips
Yeah, I'm tied up and fair, put some gwop on yo head
Now they can't find yo body, like the sack in the bed
This is it, bwoy, you done dug yoself a hole
That's a pit, bwoy, that's white shit, bwoy
Uh, type o'nigga that'll slap you with the tooley-oh
It ain't about what you smoke, it's about who you smoke
A homeboy hoody, yo, he real moody, yo
I tell him dont bully folks, he still do it tho'
They give you a funeral, you won't be viewable
I told ya get thru' the door, them hoes get super soaked
Now do you really wanna party with me?
Let me sees whatcha got fo' me
Aye, do you really wanna party with me?
In Squad we trust! Puffin' on that stuff, eyes low
Lower than Connie Chung(?)
They don't fuck with us cuz they know that we not the ones
Boy, we got them guns, get a-holing shit out from none
Yo, it's young money, my nigga, you know we bout to bust
And everybody armed, more armed than Octopus
Spray my name on my cups, so nigga know not to touch
Every time I bust a rhyme, anotha one bites the dust
Tunechi!

(Outro)
Dj E-Feezy
Mula!
Bust the bust, fuck with me!
Y'already know what it is, man
 

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