Lil Wayne, Shanell, Tyga - That’s All I Have lyrics

Nigga ain't let me catch my breath
Nah, you heard me?

Ahhh! Peek-a boo, bitch!
(yeah) Swag scare your kids (Huh?)
My airplane clothes flyer than
Your bestest shit (Really)
Gorillas in the mist
Pro-Black: pump they fist
I'm from the Planet of the Apes
King Kong clips (Blah)
Silence lambs, bitch (Yes)
Run through your land tripping (Ha ha ha)
Can't pretend when this is real as it gets
Can you? (No)
If shit hit's the fan, I Ron Artest niggas
(Ha) this how I'm living
Getting tatted in some house slippers (Ah)
I like my bitches simple: lay back
Relax your mental (Bitch)
Shit, you know what I do now
Tell me what you tryna get into
The man car's rented
(Right) , the man car killing (Yes)
Gossiping? Man, fuck the car! Look
At the man in it, ha!
Ha! Boys-to man business
(Yes) , we don't hire bitches (No)
Just fire bitches: Young Money fire-spitters
(Ahhh) them red ants is with us
(Haha) , and they ain't ate they dinner (No)
Begin the feast feet lying, fatality finish
I'm killin these records
They put me in Guinness
I really don't give a f-fuck if you witness
You hear it, listen, buy it, steal it
I'm still gonna get my fucking percentage
I cuss a lot 'cause, bitch, I'm serious
Young No-Beard
Get soup, like gumbo with shrimp
Flyer than Dumbo ears is, bitch

Now, my dog, T, was just rocking
You heard me? Hit the weed, T! You heard me?

Ugh! now let me start by sayin'
I don't like this beat
But I weather the storm
I'm a lightning streak, ugh
Weezy F baby, I do it big weigh me
Them crazy freaky bitches tryna
Cirque du Soleil me
Got some new bitches, Trel got em' laughin'
The one that gave me head could
Suck the nail out a casket
Shotgun on the kitchen table
Bullet shells in the cabinet
Fucking with me is like stepping on
The tail of a dragon wet pussy is my cabin
More bitches than a pageant
I keep a house full, nigga call me Bob Saget
Spending time backwards, hotter than a cactus
And we ain't in the building
We the fucking contractors
Y YM, motherfucker, why hate it?
Young Money down your throat
You gotta stay hydrated
Quarterback Weezy, young Tom Brady
Open up your mouth, and catch a bomb, baby
Haha!
Good morning, dude, Eagle-Street-Corner Tune
Long dough, no shortbread, no Lorna Doone
I'm warnin' you: We on the move
Bunch of female dogs and garden tools
That's bitches and hoes, hospital full
Sick of my flow hi Hip-hop was washed up
So I brought some change to finish my load
I load millions and more millions
Money to the ceilings? Nigga
No Ceilings! I'm out!

Step up in this bitch
Five o'clock in the morning
The world is waking up
You can hear the pigeons yawning
I'ma get that worm now tell
'em it's my turn now
Y'all niggas need a lesson
On some ethic you gon' learn now
I do this for the love of it saliva
'cause I love to spit
And I juke it for my future
Records y'all gon' love to spin
Fucking with my bred'ren, 10 years strong
And he put them dreads in: Silver, John Long
But he's more like platinum hold up
Here's a napkin
Pick your jaw up off the floor
And tuck your tongue right back in
Tell me, where is Mack Maine?

That's all I have!