Interpret:

Lil Wayne

Album:

No Ceilings (Mixtape)

No Ceilings..


O-Ok, I got this chrome on this Bugatti 
I’m strong in this Bugatti 
Two v8’s ain’t no such thing as driving calm in this Bugatti 
Bitch I’m bad 
I’m worse 
I pass the purp 
Don’t fuck with me ‘cause right now I’m higher than Cap-tain Kirk 
I swear I be the sickest nigga, You can ask the nurse
And if you throw it in the bag, I bet I’ll snatch her purse 
Ok I spazz, I curse 
You last, I’m first 
I’m on your ass- like dirt 
Behind that cash- get murked 
I’m talkin’ big shit nigga- join my hitlist nigga 
What’s the matter? Check your bladder, I’m the shit- piss nigga 
Shoot the witness, nigga 
Whole court in the streets 
And convict this nigga 
Oh, dickless nigga 
Man I’m runnin’ with the blucka 
Young money motherfucka 
You think we gon’ do our thing? 
Well ain’t it sunny in the summer? 
And we coming for the commas 
And whoever among us 
And you know Imma bust my ass until my crew very humongous 
I said T.I. hold ya head 
And Mack hold ya head 
Wish I could, but I can’t say some other names ‘cause of the feds 
And to my bloods- cold red 
Man you know how we plead 
And if it cost to be the boss, oh well, I guess I gotta pay 
I-I’m a New Orleans nigga, I don’t take no shit 
Take the brain off the whip, now it don’t make no sense 
Stunt hard on these bitches, I ain’t promise tomorrow 
Now when they kicking it wit me, like Nomar Garciaparra 
Flute rollin’, killin’ plants, the lil shop of horror
And we roll them bitches thick- make ‘em look like Toccara (Jones)
Man I’m too much for these niggas, and three much for these hoes 
The World is in my hands, and I keep my hands closed 


I love my baby mommas, they get my highest honor 
Gotta take care o’ them kids, Man I know you heard Obama 
And I live on an island, Atlantic in my backyard 
I just tell my pilot- to land it in my backyard 
Quarterback- shotgun, you don’t get any sack yards 
Bitch, I ball hard, breakin’ all the backboards 
Pretty-boy Floyd, step up- I will crack yours 
And even at the White House, we pull up at the back doors 


Walk around, like I’m thirty feet tall 
Tiger Woods- All these hoes tryna birdie these balls 
And the Porche 911, like emergency calls 
Man, I just be chillin’, I’m cool like Lou Rawls 
Young money in the building, I’m puttin’ up new walls 
Nigga, take your Mrs. Officer- and set some new laws 
My flow is like rubbin’ two logs 
Young mula we the new shit, and new drawers 
(Uh) Now get off my dick- I ain’t fuckin’ witcha 
Watch me shoot to the bank, I'm a money pistol 
Weezy beat the beat up, like Sonny Liston 
Redbone do me good, then I friend her sister 
I mean a bitch, she never met her best friend or sister 
I leave her pussy microsoft like Windows Vista 
Young tunche, pop that coochie for a goon, hoe 
Bullet in you boy’s memory, now you act like you dunno 
East side who I do it for- Eagle Street, right by the store 
Katrina wiped the city out- but couldn’t fuck with Hollygrove 
Lost some real niggas, I knew from a long time ago 
But heaven or hell, I hopin’ that they be where Imma go 
Take a nigga gal, and make her come give me a private show 
Still long hair, don’t care, like a Navajo 
I’m the hardest shit- go in your ass and search 
I smash this verse, and I swag and surf 


No Ceilings. 
(Hahaha.)