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Top Songs By Lil Wayne
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Wayne
Vocals
Bun B
Vocals
Busta Rhymes
Vocals
Nas
Vocals
Shyne
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jermaine Preyan
Songwriter
M. Ben-David
Songwriter
Bernard James Freeman
Songwriter
J. Barrow
Songwriter
Nasir Jones
Songwriter
Trevor Smith
Songwriter
William Hodge
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Michael “BANGER” Cadahia
Recording Engineer
Edward "JewFro" Lidow
Assistant Recording Engineer
Elizabeth Gallardo
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Fabian Marasciullo
Mixing Engineer
Willy Will
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Yeah, when I step in the spot, motherfuckers 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)
Motherfucker need to get off the dick, man
Fall the fuck 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
No tricks man, those is for kids
Kush in my cigar and hoes in the crib
Drank and the twenty ounce froze in the fridge
You fuckin' with PA 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, no holding back, let's go
[Verse 2]
Look who crept in with automatic weapons
Reppin' QB till the death of him
That **** that inspired lyrical tyrants like Kanye West and Em
Track records, goes back to the Essence
Smack adolescents who ask who the best is
I'm nasty like gas from a fat man's intestines
I pass it, you gaspin' for breath and you die fast
Gut 'em like a gastric bypass
But your Nas advocates actors seemed to get typecast
In the same role since sixteen, 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, ****
[Verse 3]
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 ****
Blessings, bowed down, respected
Chowed down, now my food's digested
Pow pow, with my shooters are Techs
That'll bust louder than the noise that I just spit
Let's get one thing straight that my crown ain't for testin', testin'
Chop heads off like King Henry the VIII
Guillotine to your neck, bitch
I'm a king in this thing, don't be dumb
Been in this shit since '91
**** can't fuck with style I use
Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum
[Verse 4]
Calm now, was a wylin' dude
Studied cowards and made power moves
Watched Wild Planet, seen lions devour food
You could say that's how I move, a monster ****
And I don't really like doing songs with ****
But yo, my **** Wayne, let them **** hate
I let my **** Drake say
"We ain't got time to respond to ****"
[Verse 5]
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 your block up
Call the judges, call the coppers, we takin' over Gotham
Word to Papa
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 6]
They say I'm underrated, but uncompete-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 saying
There he goes again
See now they nominated a **** to come and flatten everything
Now let me dominate it, ****, run
And they be knowin' that I be blackin' on everything
And make it complicated like a **** constipated with a gun
I gotta make it when 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-situation when I'm done, damn
[Verse 7]
You see I spit national treasure discography rich
And I done killed more cats than curiosity, snitch
Most of you **** sorry and owe apologies quick
What the fuck you **** still hangin' around her for
You apostrophe bitch?
Okay, now enough of that, see now I'm out the door
Tunechi, thanks for giving us a whole 'nother classic
With the Carter IV
Written by: Bernard James Freeman, Jermaine Preyan, M. Ben-David, Niqua Jones, T. Smith Jr., W. Hodge