Lil Wayne - I Don't Like The Look Of It Lyrics | FAST DOWNLOAD

I Don't Like The Look Of It

[Gudda Gudda]
Okay, Im sippin on the syrup
Got a nigga moving slow
Im all about the money
What the fuck you think I do it for?
Bitch dont act like you dont know
Im killing all these Rap niggas
Custom made casket for your motherfuckin funerals
Keep the women with me
Shit I gotta keep like two or more
Party everyday like we won the fucking Superbowl
Chillin wit my nigga Mack, he keep bitches handy
White girl on the table, love them sniff the nose candy
When Im walking by the women say Who is that nigga?
I reply: Hi, I am Gudda Gudda, that nigga
I was raised in the home of the Cap Splitters
Whip on 24s, watch it crawl like a caterpillar
I come with a toy boy like a Happy Meal
And yous a motherfuckin duck, Daffy Dill
Im from the school of Hard Knocks, where we scrap and kill
Pick the knife or gun and you can get the package deal
Im hot nigga, burning everything around me
I was lost for a minute, took a while but I found me
The streets say Im King, but the game will never crown me
Realist nigga doin it, just ask the niggas around me
So you cant size me up or try to clown uh
Shark in the water, jump in and Imma drown ya
New Orleans nigga, gun out, Imma down ya
Put niggas to sleep like a motherfuckin downer
Imma Great White, yous a flounder
Fish and a bitch, I tuna everything around ya
U-Haul Gudda, moving everything around ya
Its Young Money bitch
At the top is where they found us nigga

[Lil Wayne]
Uhh, goons on deck
Marley dont shoot em
Silence on the gun
Watch a nigga mute em
The coach in the booth
Call me Jon Gruden
School these niggas, they all my students
All jokes aside, I aint playin witcha
The weed broke down, like a transmission
The Choppa spin him round, like a ballerina
Bitch Im still spittin like I ate a Jalapeno
Im from Uptown, my bitch from Argentina
My pockets on fat like Joey Cartagena
Stunt so hard, its all yall fault
And when it come to beef, give me A1 Sauce
I aint worryin bout shit, everything paid out
You could catch me courtside in Dwayne Wades house
With a high yellow thick bitch, with her legs out
Cash Money President but we in a red house
Who the fuck want it? Make my fuckin day
I blow your candles out, now nigga cut the cake
I gotta eat bitch, like a run-away
Yall niggas aint eatin stomach ache
Okay, all these bitches and niggas still hatin
I used to be ballin, but now Im Bill Gatein
Fuckin with my iPhone, bumpin Illmatic
Im on the road to riches, theres just a lil traffic
Hair still platted, thuggin is a habit
Keep my guitar, Hip Hop Lenny Kravitz
Bunch of bad bitches and I fuck em like rabbits
Dope dick Weezy, ya girlfriend an addict
Uhhh

These lyrics were added by Omy

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Date Added: 2010-10-08
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