Lil' Keke - Ain't I Remix lyrics

rate me

That's Right

Ain't I?

Don Ke, Z-Ro The Crooked

Yung Redd, Paul Wall, baby

Ain't I

Thank I

Thank I Ain't Nigga?

Don Ke In The Building Check It Out

Ain't I, can't I, show up my swag ball

Tippin' in the drop, still ridin' with the rag off

Gotta couple of honeys, laughing out my game plan

Ain't I, Ain't I sum' like a bad man?

Say she wanna test drive, sumthin' that's fresh by

Smoking on the lemon drop, coming through extra high

Ain't I something fresh, Ain't I something clean

Bustin' niggas pockets, selling hoes dreams (okay)

Chasing after massive bucks, tougher than gorilla knucks

Sucka slow yo roll when you step on these Gucci

Knock a down, knock a out, go ahead and finish her

Hotter than a hot boy, better check the temperature

Shakin' all ya haters, try'na get close to me

Smoking on some broccoli I love making grocery

All about the cash flow these haters must see why

Yung Don Ke I'm the truth nigga, Ain't I

Uh, King Of The Ghetto when I'm rapping like Luther Vandross when I'm singing

A stranger when I'm dunking get to going off just to win his can't explain it

I'm the last brother you wanna fuck over, cause that ain't why

But nigga yo momma, daddy yo sister even the dawgs gotta die

I'm training the fish tank over too ain't nobody goin live to tell

There goin be another 9-11 in yo section 'fore I end up back in jail

Ain't I, that rapper that punch like a boxer in his crime

As intelligent as an executive not just a soft in homicide

It's been five years since I sat down with J-Prince and signed that line

Different way shipping for some time, I wish I could go back in time

Only a dollar bill can help me locate my nickels and dimes

So if I fuck around and completely go crazy, y'all ain't ready for me to lose my mind

Ain't I, so serious with my wordplay I make gangstas cry

The same wordplay can make the same gangstas make gangsta die

Ain't I, respected in these streets damn right

But luxury I'm in the hood with my people everyday and night

Ay, I gotta big ole cup of juice and a bag of that bubble

I'm topless on butter with a Screw tape that studder

Ain't I like the weather crawling down on the spiders

On the dresser is a 4-4 and 25 Lighters

Haters try to egknight us and all of the blog writers

They knock us and they bite us, but I ball them the sliders

Never go to Midas and no, I'm on that apple gloss

Paper stack my money run long like Randy Mouse

Bobbers on deck, they want a G that's papered up

Mayne hold up, I need some mo? mud up in my cup?

I got put up on game, the Don laced me up

Smoking with the King Of The Ghetto and got my mind stuck

You see that two-door fleewood on bonebuck

I'm on them roller skates, sliding like a hockey puck

It's Paul Wall baby, Ain't I the champ?

With my dawg Yung Redd, we representing for the cameras, mayne

Yung Redd homie!

Ah, it's ya nigga on green, ain't his paper green enough

With the bobbers so big, so get'cha calories up

Ain't I the freshest in the city, ain't my album coming soon

Ain't these other rappers sick, tell em get them better soon

Ain't I out here no mo, ain't he fly, ain't he paid

Ain't you niggas speaking on me ain't that what them hoes say

Na, I don't read the paper all the rumors ole news

Man ya swag's futuristic to get, three-thousand-two

Hundred house on deck don't say it ain't warrant

Dead presidents, I'm a real ghost monster

Ain't I blowing on tarantula my eyes Yung Redd

Spiderman flows glass super-shooting wells

Might as well special-layer, earrings retarded

Paper or plastic I'm try'na black card-ed

And we doing this for Hawk, Screw, Mo, P.A.T.

Pimp C and all the fallen, if so what I be

Yung Redd