Let's Go - Lil Wayne feat Big Tymers

It's gravy n_gga. Believe it.
You hot? F_ck it. Hot as a firecracker.
(It's gravy too.) I got a mac in this bag.
(click clock) What you got? Glock. (Look)

N_gga I'ma tell ya straight off the bat
I got a mac in this bag with 20 grams of crack
And I'ma sit in the back seat of yo' 'Lac
Just in case I gotta snap, a firette to the chest
If I don't know sh_t, I know cars and broads
I done ordered plenty hits and watched heads come off
And I done saw my n_gga get life behind them bars
To them dog hoes, n_gga, we scream "f_ck 'em all!"
I hustle hard in these city streets
I got my block on fire with my HB's
Spinnin' Benz in these drop tops double r
Cook a brick, flip 'em up, now I got 'em hard
And you can find me
Right up in them hallways, holdin' and totin'
Got the whole motherf_ckin block loaded and smokin'
N_gga know one thang: its some uptown sh_t
If a n_gga get it f_cked, then we killin' a b_tch

N_gga I'ma tell ya this, straight off the bat
I got a mac in this bag, with 20 grams of crack
Well let's go n_gga, see we can slide n_gga
Cuz if you hot, then I'm hot, let's ride n_gga
Look, I'ma tell you this, straight off the top
I got a blunt, and a glock, and a bag of rocks
Let's go n_gga, let's slide n_gga
If you hot, then I'm hot, let's ride n_gga

[Lil Wayne]
Better pay attention now so you don't forget later
I run the damn block, I oversee all of the paper
Don't make me take ya, play ya
I cock the glock and spray ya
Call it a caper, won't be no as-salama-laka
And J, he got the gauges, they cocked and ready
Make me run up in ya places and pop ya daddy
Got them bricks rocked and heavy, let it be known
I cook it hard and cut 'em in zones and the money be gone
Then I hit a blunt to the dome, and ride when night falls
Supply the white raw, if there's a problem, knock ya wife off
Lock the spot down
Respect it young n_gga, I'm creepin' over
Now cut it with just a little bakin' soda, breakin' boulders
I take it out my holster and bakin' soldiers whenever
N_gga it's whatever, tell ya ma to call the reverend
You see me on the block with crack, gats, and weed
Rats, plats, and ki's, that's practically me


[Lil Wayne]
See I'm a hustler, cut-throat, put rhymes in mom's muffler
You can't even count how many times the 9's bust at ya
Some of the, n_ggas that you run with are, s_ckas bruh
None of ya, won't leave, without some bullets up in ya
N_ggas can't hold me down, wodie wild
Cuz all that they can hear is loud screamin' and explosive sounds
They show me how to cook that brown and rock that white
No school, put that book back down, pick up that knife
See that's the real reason I hate to be on tour
I'd rather be back on the block with a bird of that pure
N_ggas got it all wrong, thinkin' I'm all song
But yall gon' twist it and end up all gone
Dog-gone cocks_ckers, you not thuggers
I pop dozens of glocks, cousins, in my struggle
So stop frontin', it ain't gon' get ya everywhere
I'ma start bustin', and bullets hit ya everywhere

[Chorus x 2]

[Baby talks till end]

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