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Shoes Songtext
von Lil Wayne

Shoes Songtext

Okay, No Ceilings, motherfucker, good mornin'
Dick in your mouth while you're yawnin', I'm goin' in
Gudda, why they started me? Marley, why they started me?
I'll bring it to your front door like you ordered me
Back in this bitch, but a lot more rich
On my Papa Bear shit, need hot porridge
Got a lot more shit than you can ever fathom
A big-head nigga couldn't even imagine

The shit I do, most doers never done
I'ma fuck this beat, ya bitch, ooh, ya better cum
Better run this shit, I don't run from shit
I still beat your ass like a fucking drumstick
Weezy Fucking Baby, baby make the ladies come quick
The money can't fit in my pockets but I bet that gun fit
And I'm so unfit 'cause all I eat is rappers
And these rappers ain't shit I like my fast food faster


Syrup got me slow like a turtle 'round this hoe
And I'm flyer than the highest flying bird around this hoe
What's the word around this hoe, you get served around this hoe
Yeah, you get served like a fucking hors d'œuvre around this hoe
I don't slurge around no hoe, no I don't shine in front no bitch
'Cause after she get off my dick I be like "Find the front do' bitch"
I don't know why in the fuck your bitch keep coming by
I done fucked your bitch a hundred times
What the fuck your bitch got on her mind, my fucking dick

I call her dick head, spicy like a Big Red, strike you like a Bic head
Your flow sick, my shit dead
Sillier than V.I.C. said, Soulja Boy and Arab
You should see my 11 year old daughter do they dance
I call it the Nae-Nae dance, proud to be Nae-Nae's dad
Gun on the waistline, leave you in the wasteland
We are not the same, I am a Martian, this is Space Jam
No Ceilings, R.I.P., Amen

Motherfucking caveman, beating on my chest
Young Money, Cash Money, and I'm eating all the rest
Nigga, no offense, sorry if you're offended
Riding high like I'm on 54 inches
Man, I'd rather chill with 54 bitches
Ch-chill like, ch-chill like an Eskimo
Let's get more, let's get more bitches
And I be like let's get more bitches
Mr. Officer, stop arresting your bitches

Stop lettin' the messy hoes mess with your business
Mickey mouse cheese, hip hop Walt Disney
Shesh gosh Oshkosh B'gosh, smokin' on that Bob Marley
Listening to Pete Tosh
I-I-I do me, no, I do three at a T-I-M-E
Why when we say we Young Mula
The bitches leave ya'll and relay run to us

And payday comes sooner than later 'round here
You see my sharks like I got some bait around here
Hey, you better stop the hate around there
Before Tommy, Mac, and Nina debate around there
Yeah, you see it in my face I don't care
Whole court hearing, trial, and the case around there
I'm the best thing yet, I know I got that thing wet
E'rybody want be fly but don't know where there wings at

Huh, had to pause for a minute
Now I'm right back in it, like the drawers of the women
On a scale of one to ten and my girl be a 20
My girls so bad make a nigga think he sinning
My goons so gritty, my goons is so with me
Haters gotta go on iTunes to go get me
Gaters by the doors, baboons and those grizzlies
All come out me when I'm on the micropho-N-E

Mic check, two, three, I'm different like blue pee
And my girls be half naked like Betty Boop Be
Like a hoopty, man the boy been riding
And I ain't gassed up, 'cause I'm more like a hybrid
You think I'm stuntin', but no, I'm just survivin'
And I've been here but my soul is just arriving
Look up in the air, it's a crow, it's a robin
No Ceilings, full dose, I'm prescribin'
Medication free, and for meditation we

Smoke some better tastin' weed that you'll ever taste or see
S-H-A-R-P, as a tack, hotter than
Riding through a desert on a camel back
I done been riding through wherever with the hammer strapped
I ain't lying, I can do whatever if I'm planning that
So I got my guns, let's dance, like FannyPack
And we cook the hard, cut the soft and bring the whammies back

Mafio, bitch, where your motherfucking family at?
Call my nigga Gudda if you trying to get your mammy back
All up in another nigga woman, I be ramming that
Seeing through these see-through niggas like they're laminate
Hip-hop so contaminate, I swear, just examine it
And I'm such a philanthropist, the God to these Evangelists
I dress so Los Angeles, but I love Miami though
I act so New Orleans, yes, I go Pistachios

That means I go nuts on any beat they throw at me
And the bitches is so at me
And you know what they throw at me
Ha, No Ceilings

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