Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Young Money

2Pac Dedication

 

2Pac Dedication

(album: Young Money The Mixtape Volume 1 - 2005)


[Lil Wayne & DJ Drama:]
Chyeah!
You guessed accurately
It's me, ladies and gents
Weezy F. Baby, please say the "Baby"
B told you that, yeah (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Gangsta Grillz
All up in your grill, nigga
Drama, holla at your nigga (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
I won't lose me, y'all
Nope
This is the Dedication!
Rest in peace! (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)

[Lil Wayne:]
So now, I'm burying the burner in the bomber
I carry the concerns of my mama
I'm married to the money and the power
And still got guns on my side for my private affairs
Yeah, I know that water get cold, but I dive in it bare
And swim through it, alive and aware-I been through it
You probably never been to it, so now I dip through it
And they respect me like a pistol, I'm hip to it
I gets to it, like, "Just do it," I miss doing it
Hundred-shot drum, play 'em some clip music
I am the drum major, the drum section waiting
All it takes is one signal: you can get a cadence
You can get it catered, I'm at your service like a waiter
When it's beef, I become a nigga neighbor (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
I put potatoes on the heater, no labor, later
Now, how me make mashed potatoes (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
French-fry niggas, I bench, then fire niggas-bye, niggas!
Wet 'em up like rivers-now, flow by, niggas
I'm dripping-dry fly, now, squint your eyes bitches
I Dempsey-Tom bitches up out of new Bentleys
I'm old school like a loose Winston
Like, "Since when they make bulletproof skin?"
I put it to your chin, and grin, and sin, and then, I
Sin again; then, I'm gone in the wind
And I'm dumping my Scarlett O'Hara in the canal
'Cause I'm not getting stopped with cop paraphernal'
Now, I'm preparing to ill, not preparing to fail
'Cause my flow is for real, like the Sahara and Hell
Comparisons is irrelevant, I'm a arrogant male, yeah
I can handle it, I can graduate Yale, yeah (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
They featherweight, I sporadically ill the fuck out
And you can automatically killed, yeah (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Peep the narrative of the New Orleans heritage
You can go get your evidence, I tell where and tell you when
I was prescribing medicine, you was getting your lesson in
I was getting my adolescent in (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Lesser than God only, better than my last is what I strive for
Dwelling on my past, I get high, so I light it up and smoke
Keep that Mary Poppins popping like a toaster
I'm Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
Can't forget that purple potion-oh, shit
You ho niggas is ass, that's ho shit
So, shit, I blow bigger and mash, and laugh, like, "Ohh, shit!"
I'm the best-no shit! Weezy

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?