Let's Go - Big Tymers
oleh: Lil Wayne



(feat. Big Tymers)
It's gravy nigga. Believe it. You hot? Fuck it. Hot as a firecracker. (It's gravy too.) I got a mac in this bag. (click clock) What you got? Glock. (Look)
[Baby]Nigga I'ma tell ya straight off the batI got a mac in this bag with 20 grams of crackAnd I'ma sit in the back seat of yo' 'LacJust in case I gotta snap, a firette to the chestIf I don't know shit, I know cars and broadsI done ordered plenty hits and watched heads come offAnd I done saw my nigga get life behind them barsTo them dog hoes, nigga, we scream "fuck 'em all!"I hustle hard in these city streetsI got my block on fire with my HB'sSpinnin' Benz in these drop tops double rCook a brick, flip 'em up, now I got 'em hardAnd you can find me Right up in them hallways, holdin' and totin'Got the whole motherfuckin block loaded and smokin'Nigga know one thang: its some uptown shitIf a nigga get it fucked, then we killin' a bitch
[Chorus]Nigga I'ma tell ya this, straight off the batI got a mac in this bag, with 20 grams of crackWell let's go nigga, see we can slide niggaCuz if you hot, then I'm hot, let's ride niggaLook, I'ma tell you this, straight off the topI got a blunt, and a glock, and a bag of rocksLet's go nigga, let's slide niggaIf you hot, then I'm hot, let's ride nigga
[Lil Wayne]Better pay attention now so you don't forget laterI run the damn block, I oversee all of the paperDon't make me take ya, play yaI cock the glock and spray yaCall it a caper, won't be no as-salama-lakaAnd J, he got the gauges, they cocked and readyMake me run up in ya places and pop ya daddyGot them bricks rocked and heavy, let it be knownI cook it hard and cut 'em in zones and the money be goneThen I hit a blunt to the dome, and ride when night fallsSupply the white raw, if there's a problem, knock ya wife offLock the spot downRespect it young nigga, I'm creepin' overNow cut it with just a little bakin' soda, breakin' bouldersI take it out my holster and bakin' soldiers wheneverNigga it's whatever, tell ya ma to call the reverendYou see me on the block with crack, gats, and weedRats, plats, and ki's, that's practically me
[Chorus]
[Lil Wayne]See I'm a hustler, cut-throat, put rhymes in mom's mufflerYou can't even count how many times the 9's bust at yaSome of the, niggas that you run with are, suckas bruhNone of ya, won't leave, without some bullets up in yaNiggas can't hold me down, wodie wildCuz all that they can hear is loud screamin' and explosive soundsThey show me how to cook that brown and rock that whiteNo school, put that book back down, pick up that knifeSee that's the real reason I hate to be on tourI'd rather be back on the block with a bird of that pureNiggas got it all wrong, thinkin' I'm all songBut yall gon' twist it and end up all goneDog-gone cocksuckers, you not thuggersI pop dozens of glocks, cousins, in my struggleSo stop frontin', it ain't gon' get ya everywhereI'ma start bustin', and bullets hit ya everywhere
[Chorus x 2]
[Baby talks till end]