Cory Gunz, Lil Wayne - I Got Cha lyrics
Lil Wayne [Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.] New Orleans, Louisiana, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Cory Gunz, Lil Wayne - I Got Cha lyrics]
What you niggas know 'bout this
I'm a get the spot jumpin'
On some all-out shit
Making all my thug niggas wanna call out shit
Snatch ya bitch and have ya
On some fall-out shit
You lil' niggas is targets
Too hard to figure who triggers he dodgin'
Call your sergeant, Weezy Baby cause an arson
Tell the fire marshall, call the squadron
Me, I'm quite alright, off from Dodgers
Pack your paper
Bitch I went back for your pardon
I done hung with the brothers from
Hollygrove come for the summer
Them shotties blow
Bodies go from the numbers ya hear me
No sweat, to me this is easy
Cause all the help
I squeeze it and please it
I reps New York, young, fly Sinatra
Yeah apply the hatin', I supply the docks now
Weezy F, you lines crack homie, I gotcha
You tryna get out without a scratch homie
I gotcha yep, and I shot ya
Yep, and I wrote ya yep, and we gotcha
Yep, now it's over
I tell 'em get off my dick
You niggas can't fuck with me
It's Lil' Wayne and company
You come at me wrong, just another RIP song
One time equals three, Bubba Black be home
Matter fact, I'm on, whoever want it, come on
Come on, come on baby let's see bone tone
Bootleg, ya knuckle blade come outta ya leg
Have the whole block mad
Like you killed Cornbread fuck the feds
And you can tell 'em what I said fuck a rat
And you can smell 'em when they dead
I tell it like it is
We used to have to spend
The whole day choppin'
Up and now we sell it like it is
We sell it out the fridge
We wrap 'em up in baby strollers
And I know a bitch with 17 kids
So fuck you ain't feelin' me
I'm a Cash Money Millionaire literally
Fuck y'all
Weezy F, you lines crack homie, I gotcha
You tryna get out without a scratch homie
I gotcha yep, and I shot ya
Yep, and I wrote ya yep, and we gotcha
Yep, now it's over
It's like, when them rain clouds was above
You couldn't pay anybody to show a nigga love
But now I'm gettin' dug by
The real juvenile thugs
On the Island with them
Toothbrushes comb'll stab slugs
The roughneck types call oxes, Deuce-Deuces
Don't know what the definition of truce is
To lose it nigga you stupid
I'm with' a movement so
Ruthless the OG's with
Stripes'll feel like they got blue shit
Yo Stunna, and I'm fuckin' with Gunna
I'm hot like I'm fuckin' the summer
Or bun in a oven
Thou who cometh shall be punished
Dead, gone, run this up in this year
Ay Young Co' I had to switch my image
Need to presidate the more
Folkers don't percentage
Him and his politicians, they got sentenced
Whoever in here not strapped
They not with me, yeah
Weezy F, you lines crack homie, I gotcha
You tryna get out without a scratch homie
I gotcha yep, and I shot ya
Yep, and I wrote ya yep, and we gotcha
Yep, now it's over
I'm a get the spot jumpin'
On some all-out shit
Making all my thug niggas wanna call out shit
Snatch ya bitch and have ya
On some fall-out shit
You lil' niggas is targets
Too hard to figure who triggers he dodgin'
Call your sergeant, Weezy Baby cause an arson
Tell the fire marshall, call the squadron
Me, I'm quite alright, off from Dodgers
Pack your paper
Bitch I went back for your pardon
I done hung with the brothers from
Hollygrove come for the summer
Them shotties blow
Bodies go from the numbers ya hear me
No sweat, to me this is easy
Cause all the help
I squeeze it and please it
I reps New York, young, fly Sinatra
Yeah apply the hatin', I supply the docks now
Weezy F, you lines crack homie, I gotcha
You tryna get out without a scratch homie
I gotcha yep, and I shot ya
Yep, and I wrote ya yep, and we gotcha
Yep, now it's over
I tell 'em get off my dick
You niggas can't fuck with me
It's Lil' Wayne and company
You come at me wrong, just another RIP song
One time equals three, Bubba Black be home
Matter fact, I'm on, whoever want it, come on
Come on, come on baby let's see bone tone
Bootleg, ya knuckle blade come outta ya leg
Have the whole block mad
Like you killed Cornbread fuck the feds
And you can tell 'em what I said fuck a rat
And you can smell 'em when they dead
I tell it like it is
We used to have to spend
The whole day choppin'
Up and now we sell it like it is
We sell it out the fridge
We wrap 'em up in baby strollers
And I know a bitch with 17 kids
So fuck you ain't feelin' me
I'm a Cash Money Millionaire literally
Fuck y'all
Weezy F, you lines crack homie, I gotcha
You tryna get out without a scratch homie
I gotcha yep, and I shot ya
Yep, and I wrote ya yep, and we gotcha
Yep, now it's over
It's like, when them rain clouds was above
You couldn't pay anybody to show a nigga love
But now I'm gettin' dug by
The real juvenile thugs
On the Island with them
Toothbrushes comb'll stab slugs
The roughneck types call oxes, Deuce-Deuces
Don't know what the definition of truce is
To lose it nigga you stupid
I'm with' a movement so
Ruthless the OG's with
Stripes'll feel like they got blue shit
Yo Stunna, and I'm fuckin' with Gunna
I'm hot like I'm fuckin' the summer
Or bun in a oven
Thou who cometh shall be punished
Dead, gone, run this up in this year
Ay Young Co' I had to switch my image
Need to presidate the more
Folkers don't percentage
Him and his politicians, they got sentenced
Whoever in here not strapped
They not with me, yeah
Weezy F, you lines crack homie, I gotcha
You tryna get out without a scratch homie
I gotcha yep, and I shot ya
Yep, and I wrote ya yep, and we gotcha
Yep, now it's over