John
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]Fo’ fo’ bulldog: my motherfucking petI point it at you and tell that motherfucker "fetch"I’m fucking her good, she got her legs on my neckI get pussy, mouth and ass, call that bitch triple threatWhen I was in jail she let me call her collectBut if she get greedy, I’ma starve her to deathTop down, it’s upsetBeen fucking the world and nigga I ain't cum yetYou fuck with me wrong, I knock your head off your neckThe flight too long, I got a bed on the jetThe guns are drawn and I ain't talking 'bout a sketchI pay these niggas with a reality checkPrepared for the worst but still praying for the bestThis game is a bitch I got my hand up her dressThe money don’t sleep, so Weezy can’t restAnd AK-47 is my fucking address, huh
[Hook: Rick Ross]I’m not a star, somebody lied, I got a chopper in the carI got a chopper in the car, I got a chopper in the carLoad up the choppers like it’s December 31stRoll up and cock it and hit them niggas where it hurtsIf I die today, remember me like John LennonBuried in Louis, I’m talking all brown linen, huh
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]Big black nigga in a icey watchShoes on the coupe, bitch I got a Nike shopCount the profits you could bring 'em in a Nike boxGrinding in my Jordans kick 'em off they might be hot, swish!I’m swimming in a yellow bitch in the red 911 looking devilishRed beam make a bitch nigga sit downThought it were bullet proof till he got hit the fifth timeDrop palmolive in a nigga dopeMake it come back even harder than beforeBaby I’m the only one that paid your car notesWell connected got killers off in Chicago
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]Talk stupid, get ya head poppedI got that Esther, bitch I’m Redd FoxxBig B’s, Red Sox, I get money to kill time, dead clocksYour fucking with a nigga who won’t give a fuckEmpty the clip then roll the window upPussy nigga sweet, them niggas CinnabonI’m in a red bitch, she said she finna come200 thou' on a chain, I don’t need a pieceThat banana clip, let Chiquita speakDark shades, Eazy E, five letters, YMCMBBitch ass nigga, pussy ass niggaI see ya looking, with ya looking ass niggaYou know the rules, kill them all and keep movingIf I died today it’d be a holiday
[Verse 4: Rick Ross]I’m not a star, somebody liedI got a chopper in the car, so don’t make it come aliveRip yo ass apart then I pull myself togetherYMCMB, double M, we rich foreverThe bigger the bullet the more that bitch gon' bangRed on the wall, Basquiat when I paintRed Lamborghini till I gave it to my bitchMy first home invasion, papi gave me 40 bricksSon of a bitch, then I made a great escapeAin't it funny momma, only son be baking cakesPull up in the sleigh, hop out like I’m Santa ClausNiggas gather round, got gifts for each and all of y’allTake it home and let it bubble that's the double upIf you get in trouble that just mean you fucking upIt’s a cold World I need a bird to cuddle upI call the plays, motherfucker huddle up
[Hook]