Lil' Wayne
Текст песни Swag Surfin'

No Ceilings..

O-Ok, I got this chrome on this Bugatti
Ia€™m strong in this Bugatti
Two v8a€™s aina€™t no such thing as driving calm in this Bugatti
Bitch Ia€™m bad
Ia€™m worse
I pass the purp
Dona€™t fuck with me a€?cause right now Ia€™m higher than Cap-tain Kirk
I swear I be the sickest nigga, You can ask the nurse
And if you throw it in the bag, I bet Ia€™ll snatch her purse
Ok I spazz, I curse
You last, Ia€™m first
Ia€™m on your ass- like dirt
Behind that cash- get murked
Ia€™m talkina€™ big shit nigga- join my hitlist nigga
Whata€™s the matter? Check your bladder, Ia€™m the shit- piss nigga
Shoot the witness, nigga
Whole court in the streets
And convict this nigga
Oh, dickless nigga
Man Ia€™m runnina€™ with the blucka
Young money motherfucka
You think we gona€™ do our thing?
Well aina€™t it sunny in the summer?
And we coming for the commas
And whoever among us
And you know Imma bust my ass until my crew very humongous
I said TI hold ya head
And Mack hold ya head
Wish I could, but I cana€™t say some other names a€?cause of the feds
And to my bloods- cold red
Man you know how we plead
And if it cost to be the boss, oh well, I guess I gotta pay
IIa€™ma New Orleans nigga, I dona€™t take no shit
Take the brain off the whip, now it dona€™t make no sense
Stunt hard on these bitches, I aina€™t promise tomorrow
Now when they kicking it wit me, like Nomar Garciaparra
Flute rollina€™, killina€™ plants, the lil shop of horror
And we roll them bitches thick- make a€?em look like Toccara (Jones)
Man Ia€™m too much for these niggas, and three much for these hoes
The World is in my hands, and I keep my hands closed


I love my baby mommas, they get my highest honor
Gotta take care oa€™ them kids, Man I know you heard Obama
And I live on an island, Atlantic in my backyard
I just tell my pilot- to land it in my backyard
Quarterback- shotgun, you dona€™t get any sack yards
Bitch, I ball hard, breakina€™ all the backboards
Pretty-boy Floyd, step up- I will crack yours
And even at the White House, we pull up at the back doors

Walk around, like Ia€™m thirty feet tall
Tiger Woods- All these hoes tryna birdie these balls
And the Porche 911, like emergency calls
Man, I just be chillina€™, Ia€™m cool like Lou Rawls
Young money in the building, Ia€™m puttina€™ up new walls
Nigga, take your Mrs. Officer- and set some new laws
My flow is like rubbina€™ two logs
Young mula we the new shit, and new drawers
(Uh) Now get off my dick- I aina€™t fuckina€™ witcha
Watch me shoot to the bank, I'm a money pistol
Weezy beat the beat up, like Sonny Liston
Redbone do me good, then I friend her sister
I mean a bitch, she never met her best friend or sister
I leave her pussy microsoft like Windows Vista
Young tunche, pop that coochie for a goon, hoe
Bullet in you boya€™s memory, now you act like you dunno
East side who I do it for- Eagle Street, right by the store
Katrina wiped the city out- but couldna€™t fuck with Hollygrove
Lost some real niggas, I knew from a long time ago
But heaven or hell, I hopina€™ that they be where Imma go
Take a nigga gal, and make her come give me a private show
Still long hair, dona€™t care, like a Navajo
Ia€™m the hardest shit- go in your ass and search
I smash this verse, and I swag and surf

No Ceilings.
(Hahaha.)



[Thanks to Carlos Nieves for these lyrics]