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Lil Wayne 'Big Bad Wolf' Lyrics

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  • Lil Wayne 'Big Bad Wolf' Lyrics

    Keep that shit on Twitter
    Y'all ain't lit, y'all litter
    Keep that shit in your shitter
    Or eat that shit, don't spit up (Rrr!)
    Keep my bad bitch, did her
    Keep my man bitch, put up
    Watchin' me do push-ups
    Just playin' with herself and I look up (Damn!)
    Your thot need to get her look up
    You plottin' on me, my foot up
    Your squad ain't hard, that's cushion
    That ain't sauce, that's puddin'
    Tunechi across her bosom (Damn!)
    Shootin' up the jurors (Damn!)
    Don't name my pistol
    I name the trigger, Benjamin Button, push 'em (Bam!)
    Y'all just pussy, get buried together and let 'em play footsie
    Y'all just wussy
    I got some bullets, go pull up in hoodies and come take a looksie
    Better play hooky
    I got some hookers hookin' up with some politicans
    And some elites and some college niggas
    So your missus on all kind of missions
    I'm the sickest nigga skippin' doctors visits
    But my pockets, pistons smokin' hockey stick
    Put a stockin' on my face and hit a lick in'
    When shit get ugly, I go pretty Ricky
    I don't fuck with rats, neither Minnie Micky
    I don't fuck with cops, that's the piggly wiggly
    Fuck my bitch's friends, and they friendly-friendly
    While your bitch givin' me her twenty-twenty like she tired of Mickey-D's
    Wendy's, Denny's like she tired of Macy's
    JC Penny's, I got bitches gettin' tired of spinning, spin it
    If we winning, win it
    I got Dream Chasers that ain't never dreamt it
    So I had to tenant it and I had to rent it
    And I worked the lanes like Shaq and Penny
    It's the blood gang, it's the money gang
    Red rags to riches, need happy endings
    Then it's back to business and we laugh at sentencin'
    Hungry lawyers make a snack out witnesses
    Hungry artists or starving artists in the kitchen
    Restaurant and cafeterias
    Don't make a difference if you taste the difference
    Better pay the difference to the racketeers
    Now you pull up looking like you crackin' mirrors
    Now the artificial become sacrificial
    That's a body count, where the mathematician?
    Where the wettest clitoris and baddest nipples?
    Where the ass that jiggle, where to grab a tickle?
    Where the throat deep enough to land a missile?
    If ya nigga miss you and he have opinions
    Tell him two cents is only half a nickel
    Now we at his villa, aiming at his pillars
    Yeah, triggers fingers finna act like bristles
    'Boutta catch a triple, flip kick jiu-jitsu
    Throwing pool parties, she don't have a swimsuit
    Need to help her friends through, I think that's official
    Got my neighbor's eyes bigger than the Simpson's
    And I'm magnificent so I had to pimp her
    And she had potential but he lacked credentials
    So give me a sec, I'll go at your neck
    And send you back looking like the Dracula bit you (Rrr!)
    Yeah, cannibalism going animalistic in a line of civilians
    These niggas clones, copycats, and chameleons
    Once they dead and gone, no power familiar
    When she left her thong, that's paraphernalia
    Sound familiar? My plug's Sicilian
    He the one who told me that
    "sometimes you gotta leave ya la familia, behind the millions"
    Rhyme or reason
    I'm the reason, got they eyes wide but to blind to see 'em
    With friends like those, it make me text all my enemies and tell 'em I don't need 'em
    Hallelujah, power intruders
    Bitch walk around my house like Hooters
    Towel user, power user
    Molly mixed with white girl, Molly Susan
    Niggas talkin' out their bowel movers
    Turnin' homies into flower choosers
    Turn your kids into father choosers
    Make your bitch a widow and your mom a cougar
    I'm a silent shooter with a silent shooter
    Clap at you, if don't die, I'll boo ya
    Tell a doc that's tryna to save your life and runnin' wires through you
    He could die next to ya (Rrr!)
    I'ma make the nurse ride me like a giant scooter
    Let her partner shoot her
    We pull out the movie, win awards
    She got a Golden Globe head and her Oscar booty
    Niggas prostitutin', these rappers ain't talkin' 'bout shit
    Not even 'bout pollution
    Ain't got a house to live in, ain't got a pool to swim in
    Change in their pockets, nor a couch to lose it
    And Robert Houston with the contribusive for the Monster juices
    Monster too slow, my [?], macho mucho
    Big bad wolf, watch the moon glow (Rrr!)
    I got a greek freak, she call me Antetokounmpo
    Just follow the kupo and I know that you know
    I'm hotter than Sushi, still swallow my soup bowl
    I'm out of my loophole, you outta the loop though
    Got all these niggas on silent and mute mode
    The power to do so, my pocket is sumo
    Gettin' the moolah by the minuto
    Mafia Nuvo, I am the uno
    Real boss nigga, shit, might have a Hugo
    Fuck with me, I go loud and paloozo
    Pull up trigger finger, holler, and pull though
    (Pah, pah, pah) Sound like a symphony or Operah, tudo
    Hittin' some new notes
    And I am the maestro and you just a typo
    Private flight, don't fly in too low
    I'm wiser than you know, a private school flow
    I got me a Lou Holt when I was a do hole
    Prom with the college and one with the juco
    I had to ask 'em, what's four plus two though? (Rrr!)

  • #2
    name another rapper who could do this please

    Comment


    • #3
      People too busy being the first that posted shit, don't even care half of it's wrong lol

      Why pick on somebody helpless
      If you can't paint a picture on your own, you make a stain on sombody else's

      Comment


      • #4
        whoever did these lyrics did a weak ass job

        Comment


        • #5
          You Don't Want It With My Bro In This Rap Game


          Comment


          • #6
            So many quotables

            Comment


            • #7
              and all this is freestyle, no writing.... damn barz on barz on barz ....

              Comment


              • #8
                Originally posted by Normi View Post
                and all this is freestyle, no writing.... damn barz on barz on barz ....
                he is a genius xx


                xxx

                Comment


                • #9
                  Those growls >>>>>

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Prom with the college and one with the juco
                    I had to ask 'em, what's four plus two though?
                    Rrr!

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Originally posted by Skankhunt42 View Post
                      Those growls >>>>>

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        The G.O.A.T.


                        Dear Mr. ImTooGoodToDropAnAlbum

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