Lil Wayne, Gudda Gudda - Holla At Them Boyz lyrics

Gutta, you feel like rappin? (Fo sho)
Well looka herei'mma let you do you first
And I MIGHT come behind you
This SQAD UP right here manyou know what
I'm sayin? Holla at dem boys!

It's - Young J-A-Y
Gutta Gutta fuck anotha busta
Tryin' knock my hustle!
I hit the strip ey'day I
Got the hustle cluckas
I keep that nina in my clutch
So I can touch it, fucka!
A murdera - catch Gutta Gutta in
The kitchen with a birdera
Snitch niggas can't sell us shit
We heard o' ya bitch muhfuckas poppin' shit
We murder ya! Biatch!
Run up in ya crib snack up
Ya kid then murk yo Pa
You don't know what I do to ya! Uh uh


Leave ya fuckin mother cryin at ya
Funeral - faggot ass nigga!
I pull that gat out niggas -
Jump it rabbit ass nigga!
The SQAD is takin ova
Shit you betta aks nigga!
It's Young Money till I'm RIP
Fuckin bitches gettin money
Shit that's all I see - P!
Cause we thuugin'- bussin in the club
And - middle fingas up
We hollerin SQAD UP nigga! SQAAAD UP!

You got a problem - tell 'em meat me by mine
You know the heat be by my nuts nigga
Man we can knuckle up in a place
Or buss up the whole place, betta buckle up
Befo I have yo Mami standin ova ya cold face
Ready to puck her up!
I'm so straight - I got my hustle UP!
I do this shit for them
Niggas with the zip-lock bags
Just keep it bundled up!
I see you daddy - hit my numba up!
I tell yo people get with my people
And we could holla over lunch
Man how you want it - dope, blow or what?
I giva a lady a kiss - a
Bitch a smack - a ho nut
Then get that ho to Dizzy, Gudda, Yo and Nut!
I give a hater a elbow to the gut
I'm so agressive
There ain't a lesson I haven't been learned
So nigga you can't tell me shit!
I knew to much for school -
You can't feel me bitch!
I know I needed a Two -
You need a helmet slick!
Because I'm going at ya head
With the 'fo banga
They gon' start callin you no-brainer!
And please don't bring her if
She is a no-brainer
And you'ont need a brainer -
Know I'm Weezy Baby!
Come back Gutta - holla atcha boy!
What up Gutta?

Look - it's Young Money you
Bitch you! ya bitch you!
When we bang - we make sho' that we hit you!
It's young J gudda muhfuckin slick dude!
Skinny red dude!
Nigga plays and he spray it in the head dude!
Give me way cause I strive
With them hood - strive!
Puffin dro' - stay hi off that good right?
And I ride for the SQAD - understood right?
So respect - I give ya a bad death
- say goodbye to that good life!
He was a good nigga! Hoh shit

You see normally I wouldn't do this -
But I'm gon' keep the party goin'!
The hottest Carter next to Shawn -
The hottest flow next to homie
I give my highest respects to homie -
What's good Hov' Baby? Holla atcha homie!
I holds it down for my territory
I bear the glory of the fellas
Neva get to know this
And when I jet through the
'jects - you can bet
- all the niggas and chicks - gon' take flix
Cause they never seen the machine I lean in
I mean straight sick - the boy so clean and
All the lil' children up to
Chase my great whip!
I'm talkin bout the great
Weezy Baby - splendid!
Heart-broken in a lotta spots - never mended!
I bought coke - opened up
A spot - felt relentless
I was only twelve but the
Money made me twenty
Now it's only right for me
To ride around on twenties
It's only life to ride around with the semi
Get outta bounce
I won't blow the whistle - I'mma blow
The pistol - ya hear me?
Quit all the fouled play out - or I spray out
Ya'll rookies need to be like me
- I'm fundamental like Timmy
But I can get flagrant like Kenyon!
I cannot'a hear any opinions bout my image
Man I'm the same playa from
The finals to a scrimmage
I put the AK up to ya spinal and just whip it
It kinda burn, don't it sissy?
You know the kid just - pimpin - thuggin
Bandanered up like a old hippie - or sumtin
Canons up - I hope you start
Trippin - I love it!
I see no public - it's just you and your
Snakes and me and some niggas that love me!
See you could just hate - but
Me and these niggas is grubbin!
We at supper - it's mm-mm good fucka!
You try 'n touch it
- it's boom boom-brr-blucka!
You try 'n block us -
You bette be Chris Tucker!
Cause this summer we gon'
Blow like dick-suckas!
And if ya flitch blitch catch
A blow to ya dick-suckasnicca! Faggot!
You hear that clinch-clinch I lock
The to this shit, cussin'!
Man let me chill I'm to
Cold for this shit cussin'
Yes Sir - this ya boy Weezy Baby man
We doin this wayne here - I see you!
Fe - I see you! Louie Baby - I see you!
Gudda Gudda! We right here manwhutsup?
Ce Ce Baby - I ain't forget you!
Raj Smoove man! We gon' make it happen man
- I promise to God - swear ta-God!
Fuck ya'll man