BM J.R. Lyrics – Lil Wayne
Singer: Lil Wayne
Title: BM J.R.
Yeah shorty you know what I’m talking about
I’m peeping these n#gg#s out there slipping, looking like
They ain’t ’bout money no more man, so uh f#ck
You know what we gon’ do huh, what we been doing ha n#gg#
We gon’ load up get a lot mo get a lot more and say f#ck ’em n#gg#
Keep buying sh#t, keep f#cking hoes
Loading up on more b#tches
Then you know what I’m saying, we gon’ get greedy too n#gg#
I ain’t never getting full
I’m full-blooded with this grind
Yeah they don’t understand little n#gg#
Murder capital only key to survive is kill
If the elements don’t murder you the riders will for real
And n#gg#s know I go hard to the fullest
Get involved and I got ’em playing dodge ball with bullets
Yeah, I got the sawed-off fully
In the Sean John hoodie, get f#cked, you play p#ss#
Ha, we hit ’em up while they’re looking
And them body shots hurt, but the head shots took him
Damn, and if the red dot spot ’em then the hollow head got ’em
Knock his top to his bottom jack
Yeah, you see we grind from the bottom
Just to make it to the bottom at the very bottom of the map
Lil Weezyana piranhas everywhere you at
You gotta wear your extra condom and a extra gat
Your b#tch can get it for acting like a man
And n#gg#s in Pakistan ain’t packing like your man
I backwards hand your man on command
In front of n#gg#s he cool with them boys on fan
I’m on hot, I adjust in different climates
Ducking the animal keeper running with my primates
You ain’t did it ’til you done it like in five states
Weezy hustle no blubber I put on weight
And in the drought I go on a diet and stretch more
Lose all that weight leave a n#gg# with stretch marks
You don’t even come up to a n#gg# chest pa’ sub par
What the f#ck they play it in the club for
Real sh#t I’m ducking bombs from a drug war
No religion but the cops swear that I’m a drug lord
Father forgive ’em for they know not who they’re pushing Lord
Father forgive me if I have to send ’em to you Lord
I’m just trying dodge the shots they send to the God
They’re riding up highway to heaven boulevard
Damn, them n#gg#s p#ss# and jive
Not even in a eye exam, they ain’t looking for I
The A and the K will make your face crook to the side
Now when you’re smiling everybody gotta look from the side
‘Cause when you wilding you ain’t looking you’re just looking high
And when we’re hungry you look like pie
Sweet potato-ass n#gg#, you lemon merengue, apple custard
Cherry jelly, don’t make me get the biscuit buster
What up, Gizzle? You’re my distant brother
Real sh#t, n#gg#, same father, different mother
I skip the fronting and stick to keeping it trill
You not know me for nothing other I’m something other
Than people you feel I’m deeper for real I’m deeper than skills
My speeches can kill, rest in peace
Yeah, you under-dig, shorty? It’s all about one thing n#gg#
If you’re ’bout money, n#gg#, come f#ck with us
If you ain’t ’bout no money, get the f#ck from ’round us, n#gg#
And whatever you’re ’bout, we’re ’bout it
However you wanna get, we can give it to you, n#gg#
All runners, b#tch, you under-dig? Put your prints in, n#gg#
Put your feet down and your nuts on the concrete and let’s roll
You sleep in the field for trying the dude
I’ll bust your head to the meat turn your mind to food
Food for thought, think I ain’t lying to you
I lie his body in grease, set fire to ’em
I tie his body in sheets put the tires to ’em
Make ’em feel the Escalade put his feet in the blades
Damn! I’m the heat in the blaze
And n#gg#s keep their ways when I’m in the streets with blay what!
My n#gg# hungry he’ll eat the plate
And if I ask the homeboy’ll eat your face, yeah!
And though he got me, you can ask I’m like a pool table
I keep the eight, my side pocket side ways
When I pop it leave a n#gg# sideways for five days
Birdman talk to ’em
Yeah n#gg#, I tell ’em, I’ll tell ’em again shorty
If it ain’t ’bout no money, get and fall the f#ck from ’round me n#gg#
Check my swag, I travel like sound dog
You play hard and I’m gravel like ground dog
I’m underground, call me groundhog
Lay down laws, call the ground law
Don’t confuse me with the law, naw
But just confuse me with my pa because I am the Birdman J.R
I ain’t tripping n#gg#, I play the corner like Ripken n#gg#
With the forty Cal Ripken n#gg#, rip a n#gg#
Flip your vehicle, split your windshield
Whack your baby momma but I’ll let the kid live
And people say that I am a kid still
‘Cause the little n#gg# still ride on big wheels
You’re feeling animal then come on and get killed
The Sig peel bandannas like bananas
Say I’m slight bananas I blow a weekend in Havana
In my Cabana with my bottom b#tch from Savannah
Man a train couldn’t stop you man
I man up and you not a man, I stand up say I got my land
I’m the man of my land call it Lil-Weezy-ana
That’s the new plan
Yeah n#gg#, you’re ’bout some money get at me n#gg#
That’s the only way
Dumb sh#t we’re ’bout that get at me you under-dig
n#gg# roll solo, dolo n#gg#
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