2 Chainz, Lil Wayne, Benny the Butcher - Oprah & Gayle lyrics

Tauheed Epps

Lil Wayne [Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.] New Orleans, Louisiana.U.S.

Jeremie Damon Pennick

[2 Chainz, Lil Wayne, Benny the Butcher - Oprah & Gayle lyrics]

It’s worth starting it back
Bars K, K know what this is
Ay, ay, ay woadie
Them niggas I was tellin' ya about
Me, Wayne, and one them Griselda niggas
It’s so many bars, this song crazy

Checkerboard luggage, ramen in the cupboard
I left Art Basel with a sculpture
You listening to the lyrical nunchuck
Chuckling dumbfucks
Vocals warmed up, beyond Ford tough
I kept my lawn cut, mispell and conduct
I got my arm out the window of an armed truck
It’s Teamster Union when you hear
The trucks roll up
On Cleveland Avenue made plays at the Kroger
Came up on cold cuts, heart got a hole in it
Bank got a roll in it
The Cessna Citation came with a pole in it
The Cullinan so big it need a stove in it
Now that's deep I just dove in it
The closet came with garage doors
The Goyard is on all fours
I do this shit for encores
I did this shit in Tom Ford
They said I'm wrong for it
I'm so fly I looked up and said get on boy
It's the man, it's the myth
In the midst of the minks
With the M's on my mind in Maui taking pics
Motivated by more that mean
I want more of this, I want more jewelry
More cars I want more cribs
What you expect from a kid?
That grew up with his
Stomach touching his rib
Echos coming from out the fridge
My papa was a rolling stone
I thought you knew that
Don't smoke no cig but I'll
Shoot that true facts

Naw mean? My lighter St laurent
Yeah, that's St laurent fire
You gotta hold it in ya hand when me
Lil Wayne do a verse like this, yeah

Uh hoppin’ outta slide outs
Runnin’ through a walkthrough
Coupe on big wheels like a
Pony wearin’ horse shoes
Tall money, short fuse, long money, long ooh
Champagne Papi part 2, she my corkscrew
Tattoos over war wounds
Wrist look like it's on zoom
Neck look like anime or cartoons art to ‘em
I got the spikes on the GuccI
Look like Bart to ‘em
Gimmie the Nikes lemme add some
Comme Des Garcons to ‘em stunt man
Verses in my lunch bag
Rappers on my launch pad
Chopper make ‘em do the criss-cross
Or make ‘em jump dance
Lump somes, hump bands
What’s a young man without a check?
Just a Jumpman, fuck that, Jordan meme
I’ma sip some lean
Getta ting and go quarantine
I’ma get some bling let it
Bling like some Oil Sheen
I’ma put some fuckin’ princess
Cuts on the queen and I keep all of the
Chin check stubs I redeem
This our team, my regimen, I’ma higher being
Purple smoke fire green, sweet ‘n’ sour cream
Peakin’ higher now we towering, peak position
Give my people power now we power fiends
It’s addiction
Feelin’ like a boxer steppin’ out the ring
Ya swing ya missin’
Critically thinkin’ ‘bout the critics
Up in critical condition
I’m in pitiful condition
Scratch that, but who was itchin’?
Teamsters the union did it
Tune ‘n Tity, Young Money, Tru Religion

Shit, Saint Laurent lighter, woo
I got "stoner-virus, " baby
Her right there? She got "Patron-a-virus" hmm-mm
And her over there? She wouldn't let me
Fuck so now she got "loney-virus", alright
Ayy, stop leasin' niggas
We gotta get that "homeowner-virus" like me

Yo, they was laughin'
But we was smart drug trafficking
We was sharks (Uh, huh)
I had to chase the paper down until
We trapped the money in vault, kinda crazy
My last bid was the shortest and
She didn't wait for me spent half my 20s in
Prison and aged gracefully
It's paper, you know we grind, place a wager
And you be fine (Uh, huh)
I put my fork down now every
Major want me to sign
Left the hood for Hollywood
It wasn't worth being famous
(It wasn't worth it)
For every chick got a beamer
And a personal trainer (Ha ha)
I'm into business moves
She into Paris fashion (Uh, huh)
It cost me at least twenty grand a
Year on her hair and lashes
Love I done inherited music was
Both of my parents' passion my name come up
We been talkin' dope and comparing classics
(Uh, huh, uh huh) stare at me good
'cause this how pressure look
They want my spot but tryna
Skip every step I took
I wish 'em the best of luck
I asked a question, and he gave me an answer
That still left a nigga confused
Like Brady in Tampa
Back home, I'm one of the narcos, semi autos
Dodge fans like New York City potholes
Yeah, the OGs think that it's funny
Money made me more hungry
'Cause majority wait til they chubby
And then get comfy, nah
Get that first case then
You learn to appreciate
All the risks you gotta take
To turn a Ford to a Wraith (Uh, huh)
Checkin' in on my hood
Like I hope all is well
I'm still close to my scale
We like Oprah and Gayle

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