Lil' Wayne

Lil' Wayne - Carter IV Outro

rate me

Feat Bun B, Nas, Shyne, Busta Rhymes

[Verse 1: Bun B]

Yeah… When I step in the spot, motherf-ckers say “who that? ”

Big Bun B, but you already knew that

Live from the state where they chop it and screw that

You hatin’ on the trill OG, where they do that? (for real!)

Motherfckers need to get off the dick, man

Fall the f-ck back like a bike with no kickstand

Get out my mix man, just go’ get you stuck

Deeper in the quicksand, with no easy fix, man (damn!)

No tricks, man, those is for kids

Kush in my cigar, and hoes in the crib

Drank, and the 20 ounce froze in the fridge

You f-ckin’ with DA so you know what it is

I’m sittin’ on the fours that clack

Comin’ down candy in the golden ‘Lac

We gettin’ to the money like it’s Goldman Sachs

And we do it for the pimps that are holding back… let’s go!

[Verse 2: Nas]

Look who crept in with automatic weapons, reppin’ QB till the death of him

That nigga that inspired lyrical tyrants like Kanye West and Em

Track record goes back to “The Essence”,

Smack adolescents who ask who the best is

I’m nasty like gas from a fat man, attested,

I pass it, you gaspin’ for breath and you die fast

But I’m like a gastric bypass,

Bunch of Nas African actors seemed to get typecast in the same role

Since 16 I ain’t grow a day old yet my brain grow, cocaine white Range Rov’

Tats on my body like an art exhibit, I did real good for a project nigga

Was once a Bacardi sipper, now it’s Chandon,

Fat blunts in the car with strippers

Guns in compartments hidden, I was real young, little youth, a novice nigga

Blessings, bowed down, respected, chowed down now my food’s digested

Pow pow, with my shooters are Techs, bust louder than the noise I just spit

Let’s get one thing straight that my crown ain’t for testin’… testin’

Chop heads off like King Henry the 8th, guillotine to ya neck, bitch!

I’m a king in this thing, don’t be dumb

Been in this shit since ’91

Niggas can’t f-ck with the style I use

Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum

Calm now, was a wylin’ dude, studied cowards that made power moves

Watched Wild Planet seen lions devour food, you can say that’s how I move

A monster nigga, and I don’t really like doing songs with niggas

There go my nigga Wayne, let them niggas hate

I love my nigga Drake say “we ain’t got time to respond to niggas”

[Verse 3: Shyne]

I’m a villain, I’m a villain, all that happens in the street

Poverty and desperation made me everything I be

I’m a shotta, when I pop up with them poppers burn ya block up

Call the judges, call the coppers, we takin’ over Gotham

Word to Poppa

Blood gang, five! It’s that Blood gang, five, but green is the bottom line

I run this town, I ain’t gon’ lie, they run they mouth, they ain’t gon’ fight

They actin’ like they ain’t gon’ die until I let them llamas fly

Flatbush to Bed-do-or-die, from Watts to Larry Hoover Chi

Poverty and heroine, it’s no place for a juvenile

Put greed in our heart, it’s the green that we want

Cash Money is the company and Weezy the boss!

[Verse 4: Busta Rhymes]

They say I’m underrated, but un-compete-with-able

Understandable, being that my rating levels are unreachable

Anything said other than that should be silenced, unspeakable!

And the thought of you being nicer than me, unfeasible!

They ask is what I do ever gonna stop, this shit will never end

That’s when you hear a car crash in the vocal booth got em sayin’

“There he goes again! ”

See now they nominated a nigga to come and flatten everything

Now let me dominate it, nigga run

And they be knowin’ that I be blackin’ on everything

And make it complicated like a nigga constipated with a gun

I gotta make it what they want and wake ‘em when I come and shake ‘em

And bake ‘em and take ‘em to another place

Ain’t no fakin’, ain’t no kind of mistakin’ how I be breakin’ up

Everything and be creating a s-s-s-situation when I’m done (Damn!)

You see I spit National Treasure, discography rich

And I done killed more cats than curiosity, snitch!

Most of you niggas sorry and owe apologies, quick

What the f-ck you niggas still hangin’ around here for, you apostrophe bitch?

OK, now enough of that, see now I’m out the door

Tunechi, thanks for giving us a whole ‘nother classic with Tha Carter IV

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Thanks to Adrina

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