Lil' Wayne What We Need Lyrics
"This is "what we need, you "decided" this
What you say..oooo (x4)
G Malone, Still on the block wit it,
Just posted, my steel got some rounds in it.
Case haters make a problem and I gotta solve it,
Belly leaned against the curb like an alcoholic.
Kill bill was still kicking like Lucy Liu,
And watch my Lair homies hustle like I used to do.
Heard they mad I got crips calling troops with rules,
What they all turning gang y'all used to do
here to stay your cake leaves 6 summers
your baby mama already want the dick from 'em
and your sister calling me her little bust it baby.
While your teenage daughters kiss my poster daily
so crazy, haters scared to start me up
you can't fade me, your clippas ain't sharp enough
Ain't another rapper breathing -- this smart and tough
So any dummy tryna learn he better smartin' up.
"This is" what we need, you "decided" this
What you say..oooooo (x4)
(Yeah, come on) Call me weezy baby, (yup) hands up, tech wavin',
Hey now, lay down like a nigga put a bed down.
Sleep tight, die in a dirt cheap life.
Suit, tuck, tie, and the shirt speech nice,
Lumps in throats, trumpet blow (go on)
Where we at daddy, guns and coke
home, the quiet is woke the riot's provoked (bomb)
All them busters allow 'em to suffer-and
she (know) not to ever fuck around with the fuckers-and
Stop looking up the mountain above ya
Have you looking under cars, inspecting mufflers
you know thats reality baby, check your calendar
Every days a new day and this can be the last one (Come on, yeah)
So you better make it pay off
or make a nigga scratch a day off. (Weezy!)
(Let me take a break from dis gangsta shit and holla at the ladies)
Look baby its g's ova here, Cheese over here.
pass them lames tryna holla at ya.
And come and ride with a thug, I'm fly as a dove
Switching lanes, tossing dollars at ya.
Ain't you tired of them fakes, who lie about they cake
you can tell them dudes probably actors
But me and Wayne got a diction
And one of them trickin be the one either ones happenin
Now getting back to the gutter,
Back to the corner
Back to the grimey shit
I mean I'm back at the butter
Back fillin quotas,
Back tryna find a brick
I heard they 21 again, connects getting hit and want us to make ammends
But really I ain't trippin homey know I make an end
Cuase my rip game is fertile, shit could make a twin
Thanks to Darris Pope; email@example.com for submitting What We Need Lyrics.