Lil Wayne - Ice Cream lyrics
Lil Wayne [Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.] New Orleans, Louisiana, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Lil Wayne - Ice Cream lyrics]
Hmhmm, good mm
Young Money, syrup in the big shot
Time to do the thing
That's word to your wristwatch
Shoot the Glock 'til it burn
'til my wrist lock
Rims hella big, tires skinny like Chris Rock
H Hold the gun sideways like O-Dog
Shoot a nigga in his face, knock his nose off
Make the girls say my name like a roll call
Painkillers got a nigga 'bout to doze off
Big shit, nigga, talk big shit, nigga
Big bread, bread like a picnic, nigga
Shake the whole game like the Hit-Stick
Nigga
Money spread like germs, get sick, nigga
Yeah, and fuck them other niggas
1-900, who want it? I deliver
Concrete shoes won't help in the river
I don't care if you was Michael Phelps
My nigga
I'm higher than the motherfucking Alps
My nigga
I'm flyer than the motherfucking stealth
My nigga
Y Young Money shit, top shelf, my nigga
We the motherfuckers, like MILF, my nigga
Ahem, flow like syringes
Yeah, I'm in my mode
Got a code like Da Vinci's
I was in the trenches, now I'm in the Trump
And everybody watch your back when
You're in the front you ain't never safe
Stop playing with a gangsta
Brang it to his face
And he ran like a flanker
Bend the girl over
Put her hands on her ankles
I'm all over this "Ice
Cream" beat like sprinkles
"Why, thank you!" if you's a hater
I'm eating, you's a waiter
Pistol on my hip, "Tomb Raider"
Holler at your guala, zoom, later
Young Tune, nigga typhoon, nigga
And if you think it's sweet, buy a room
Nigga damu, nigga, I'm on my gang shit
She give me good brain like
She studied at Cambridge
Lighting up a motherfucking blunt
Stupid-fruity swag like a motherfucking Runt
And I be with my dog like a motherfucker hunt
And every day of the week is
The first of the month
Audemars Piguet with the diamonds in the face
Can't tell the time 'cause the
Diamonds in the face
We can get it popping like a semi-automatic
And if you got beef
I put the biscuit on the patty
Rockstar tatted, big-money addict
Running this shit, now I'm feeling ath lat-ic
I I'm on a boat, bitch, getting seasick
Stop playing, I'm fresher than a Degree stick
Street shit well, of course
I smoke mad weed, I'm on my high horse
Please, don't shoot me down, I land feet flat
Then walk a million miles with
New Orleans on my back
Haha! I need a massage
And when it come to hoes, man
I got a collage
Finger on the button, nigga, just stuntin'
If you ain't the bank teller
Don't tell me nothing
Kush so strong, you can smell me coming
Bitch, I go hard like the boy from "300"
You think y'all kick it, well, boy
We punting
Young Money, baby, we the shit, weak stomachs
No Ceilings, motherfucker