Inkredible Remix - Sorry 4 the Wait

[Thugga - Verse 1]
 I pop some Percocets
 Then I pop some Xanax
 Sitting back, strapped, cocked
 Plotting on your man next
 Jack a nigga for his work
 And stretch it like some Spandex
 He hesitate, I spray and leave him
 Like a Tampex – oops, I meant a Tampax
 Bitch, I keep that anthrax
 I can get your man wacked, for a couple Tan packs
 Shoot off your Sedan lap
 Nigga, I demand stacks
 I ain’t playing, black
 Bitch, I be spraying Macks

All type of guns with accessories
 I’m like Cosby for the bills
 I need mills like Stephanie
 P-ssy niggas can’t stand next to me
 I’ve got dope and ecstasy
 Keep em floating like both of the levees breached
 80s baby but my soul from the 70s
 Worldwide game like a travelled the 7 seas
 Niggas ain’t OG, scary lil bitch, please
 Tune ate p-ssy in the can: Frisky

[Raw Dizzy]
 I got 10 up on my pinky ring and 20 on my bracelet
 Now these niggas kissing ass, but they can’t say shit
 I’m just here to separate the real from the fake shit
 I told you, I was coming n I’m sorry for the wait
 I gotta get this money
 Mane, it’s right here in my face
 I got the Devil on my back
 I don’t wanna be up in that place
 My mom tell me to be safe
 I just keep running in these streets
 I can’t stop f-ckin with these hoes
 But I say I’m just doing me
 Bitch, I’m a 9th Ward nigga
 Mason street, D&G
 That Flordia right by the D they need to free my nigga B
 I ain’t the type of person to be running from no beef
 Those f-cking guns are gonna be bursting
 Somebody knocked off their feet
 So watch your f-cking mouth
 Before you end up on that floor and stop
 Acting like you’re hard cause
 You know you’ve been a ho
 I told you out the gate I’m not the fake
 I gotta say it, please excuse
 Almost forgot I’m all Dizzy by the way

[Flow]
 Money over bitches, bitch I’m coming for the check
 Vampire living, bitch I’m coming for your neck
 Raw! I’m sharp, my swagger like an X
 I’m a motherf-cking monster
 I rap like I’m possessed
 Call me Mr. Still Smoking, smoke it in a paper
 The game is a bitch, hold her down and rape her
 Yes I am a Blood but I be wylin’ with my skaters
 We probably smoking flavors bumping Tyler the Creator
 I’m a Eastside native, all my niggas Soo Woopin’
 They went crazy when they heard I had a song
 With Lil Tunechi, bitch!
 Get some ice and pour my Sprite
 And light my bong and my doobies
 F-ck your producer
 I’m the one that be producing my music
 I’m a hippie surrounded by a lot of pot
 Pot is in me
 Drop ya like an Autobot
 Sleeping on me like I’m rapping with a blanket
 Kill a nigga have him thinking that he planking

[Lil Wayne]
 All-red plaid shirt, skinny ass jeans on
 Them goons at your front door, choppers out: “ding dong!”
 Didn’t I change the game and put my motherf-cking team on
 Now let my chopper ring
 “Baka!” is my ringtone
 F-ck you ho-ass niggas, I get money and get over hoes
 We hold court with them heaters
 “Pop!” case open/closed
 Looking for a bitch to hop up on my totem pole
 And my blunt be stupid-fat, double-stuffed – Oreos
 I get loaded til I motherf-cking overload
 Been rapping, flows still tight like aerobic’s clothes
 Ask them bitches, I told em hoes
 They back it up like Sunnydrive and Bronx Tale closure tho
 Lighter in my pocket, light the sky rocket
 Pull em hammers out and run them nigga’s like Stocktons
 Got some niggas from my city
 Thugga, Dizzy, Flow
 Sorry 4 the Wait, coming soon, Carter IV, beyotch!


                          Thanks to jj. for correcting these lyrics