Dedication 2

Dedication 2
Alright I think y'all ready this time
Y'all know what I come here for
Call me the iPod King
Call me Mr. Thanksgiving (Dedication 2, that's right)
Call me whatever the fuck you want (you already-)

Wake up motherfuckers it's Weezy, you got a problem?
Heads to them Katrina victims, we still mobbing
Shiny black coupe at night look like a goblin
AK on the backseat, baby it's so-

Wake up motherfuckers it's Weezy, you got a problem?
Heads to them Katrina victims, we still mobbing
Shiny, black coupe at night look like a goblin
AK on the backseat, baby, it's so vibrant
Watch me let it spray like a hydrant, can't dodge it
You're not getting wet in the rain is not logic

She won't give that pussy to Wayne, I'm so obliged, just
Live and direct from inside of your bitch body
And, hi, there hoe, what do you know? I'm riding
In the same streets my pops died in, I got 'em and
I get that money tell my momma I'm grinding
And I'll be coming home with our future in my pocket

Shoot you if you block it, leave a nigga awkward
Murder the adults and let the kids get adopted
Sit it in the pot and watch me rise to power
Getting out 20 American pies an hour
Goddamn, excuse ma'am, but I'm the man
And you better put my money in my hand, stop playing

Got ends, no friends, just brothers, one color
And I spread the motherfucker all over your room shutters
Yeah, they knew better, I'm two letters
I'm like M.J and 2-3 and O.G, yeah, I'm low-key
'Cause niggas and bitches is police
I roll leaf, patching up the game's slow leak, I'm Weezy, baby

Lemme catch my breath
Okay
Pussy-ass, pussy-ass, hold on, pussy-ass, pussy

Pussy-ass niggas, fake fraud-ass niggas
Tryna save the past, SIM card-ass niggas
Them broads laugh at you, them niggas won't kill you
And them niggas that's with you, could die right with you
I'll be shooting everything up in my eyesight mister
I say, "I might miss you, but lil' FeFe gon' hit you
And lil' Currensy'll split you, Mack Maine'll straight flip you
Let Taz Po ship you, then we all forget you"
I'm sittin' in the kitchen, like, "How can we all get richer?"
Got paint on my hands from painting the perfect picture

Then, I tell lil' Josh, "Roll up the perfect Swisher"
Goddamn the hurricane, to the weed man, we miss ya
I'm the best, just listen, I ain't what the game been missing
Ask my nigga Juelz, I been here since 12
Ten shells, let 'em save themselves
Fuck them niggas and their pals, pow, pow



Credits
Writer(s): Dwayne Carter, Laron L. James, Cameron Giles, Joseph Jones, Kip Winger, Kenneth Cunningham, Jamal Rye
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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