Lil’ Wayne – Ice Cream Paint Job

Young Money, syrup in the big shot

Time to do the thing thats word to your wrist watch

Shoot the glock till it burn till my wrist lock

Rims hella big tires skinny like Chris Rock

Ho hold the gun sideways like O dogg

Shoot a n-gga in his face knock his nose off

Make the girls say my name like roll call

Pain killers got a n-gga bout ta doze off

Big shit n-gga talk big sh-t n-gga

Big bread bread like a picnic n-gga

Shake the whole game like the hit stick n-gga

Money spread like germs get sick n-gga

Yeaa, And f-ck them other n-ggas,

1 9 hundred who want I deliver

Concrete shoes wont help in the river

I dont care if you was Michael Phelps my n-gga

Im higher than the mothaf-ckin Alps my n-gga

Im flyer than the mothaf-ckin stealth my n-gga

Young Money sh-t top shelf my n-gga

We the mothaf-ckas like Milf my n-gga

UhUhm, Flow like Syringes

Yea im in my mode got a code like Da Vinci

I was in the trenches, now im in the trump

And everybody watch your back,when your in the front

You aint never safe stop playin with a gangsta

Bring it to his face and he ran like a flanker

Bend the girl over put her hands on her ankles

Im all over this ice cream beat like sprinkles

Why thank you,if you a hater

Im eatin, yous a waiter

Pistol on my hip, Tomb Raider

Holla at your gualla, sue em’ later

Young Tune n-gga, typhoon n-gga

And if you think your sweet, buy a room n-gga

Damo n-gga, Im on my gang sh-t,

She give me good brain like she studied at Cambridge

Lightin up a mothaf-cking blunt,

stupid fruity swag like a mothaf-ckin runt

And I be with my dog like a mothaf-cka hunt

Everyday of the week is the first of the month

Audemar Piguet with the diamonds in the face

Cant tell the time cause the diamonds in the face

We can get it poppin like a semi automatic

And if you got beef I put the biscuit on the patty

Rockstar tatted, big money addict

Running this sh-t now Im feelin athletic

I Im on a boat bitch, gettin sea sick

Stop playin Im fresher then a degree stick

Street sh-t, well of course, I smoke mad weed

Im on my high horse, please dont 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, n-gga just stuntin

If you aint the bank teller dont tell me nuntin

Kush so strong you can smell me coming

B-tch I go hard like the boy from 300

You think ya kick it,well boy we puntin

Young Money baby we the sh-t weak stomachs

No Ceilings.Mothaf-cka