Lil' Wayne

Lil' Wayne - Gossip

rate me

I hate this,

And I don't walkin around looking for it ya know

But yesterday it seems just wonder around till it found me you know like

Gossip found me

Then why don't you try prove it


You don't know how to prove it,

Well what you just you do is..

Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop,

Stop hatin on a n*gga that is a weak emotion

The lady of a n*gga

And You can get tip like you waitin on a n*gga

Put a body bag in the apron on a n*gga

I give my all behind the mic

But you could never see if you sit behind the light

You don't have to pick me

To win the title fight

But I'm gonna win a championship belt so tight

And if I'm wrong there is no right

And if I'm wrong there is no white

I'm triin to be polite

But you bitches in my hair like the fuckin po-lice

My flow is rare

There's rappers who are nice

These other rappers bark

Some other even bite

But I'm much more bright

I give the game sight

So before you dim the light

You just might might wanna

Think it over, think it over, ooo think it over baby


Stop analyzing


You should realize

What I am is 'n start epitomizing


Got the heart of the biggest lion

Confident like fuck em all

Pull out my dick and ride it

My flow sick so sick its like my shit is dyin'

It rains a lot in my city

Cuz my city's cry's'

'cuz my cities dyin''

But I emerge from all of that

I am a livin' pioneer


Fear god not them

Steer my robbin'' coupe through the streets to the booth

Then I leave a tub in the booth

I leave a blood bath

Sorry there's a tub in the booth

Now where the drugs at

Like the strings on the shoe

No nigga fuck that

I'm twisted like the strings on a boot

Where new Orleans at?

I build hip hop store me like a bus pass

So in your possession

I must ask

Hey haven't I been good to you tell me haven't I been sweet to you

Drag my name through the mud

I come out clean

Cast away stones

I wont even blink

A gun is not a math problem

I wont even think

Just leave your dead like the mink under my sink

Don't believe in me

Don't believe me

I graduated from hungry

And made it to greedy

My flow is like pasta

Take it and eat it

But I'm gonna need cheese if I'm makin' a ziti

You niggas want beef

I want a steak and a weevy

Lost in Amsterdam but Jamaica where we be

Hard body nigga takin' it easy

All about my paper bout my paper like easy

Why do rappers why do rappers lot a fans lot a rappers lot a rappers lie like that

Cut the mutha fuckin camera

Cut the check

Fuck your props

I AM hip hop

& i aint dead I'm alive.

Thanks to jorge orellana for these lyrics

Thanks to spider for these lyrics

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