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

Ses


Arayüz


Zorluk seviyesi


Aksan



arayüz dili

tr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Çerez politikası   |   Destek   |   FAQ
1
Kayıt Giriş
Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

5$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

10$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

20$

Lyrkit

Ve/veya beni sosyal medyada destekleyin. ağlar:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Lil Wayne

Dreams & Nightmares

 

Dreams & Nightmares

(albüm: Sorry 4 The Wait 2 - 2015)


Turn the music down in my headphones, yeah
That noise in the background, that's my skateboard
That nigga Mack crazy
Yeah, uh

I put my shooters on they feet
I just give 'em your address, then go to sleep
The money turned my niggas into monsters
The white done turned my niggas into Nazis, Lord
The money turned my face into a stocking
Don't make me turn your baby to a hostage, boy
Don't make me turn the kid to a foster
My woman turn my dick into a Mazda, Lord
Body parts in the duffel
The bullets turn your body to a puzzle
The money turn my bitch into a monster
She know how to get a check and turn a zero to a comma, Lord
The money turn my niggas into killas
The sugar turnt the cocaine to vanilla
The money turnt the bitches into hoes
The money turned my niggas into foes, Lord
I put my shooters on they feet
Give 'em your address, then I go out to eat
Had that snowman in the hood like Jody Breeze
She from the hood but look like she from overseas
I said, "Girl you know I love you and I care for ya
I got some new shoes and a bag of hair for ya"
She say, "Fuck these other niggas, they ain't half of ya
Just keep laughing to the bank, it's hilarious"
I got a stay-at-home gun and a travel gun
Boy, we could sell white, in Africa
It's like, I can't explain, y'all asked me to spit
And now I'm drooling on my chain
"What happened to Wayne?"

I'm like, hold up, wait a second, y'all thought I was second?
Hating on a champ, throwing salt and not confetti
We pull up and we shoot, then we park the car and edit
Watch me pull up with no roof
That's cause I walk the dog and pet it
I'm like, hold up, wait a minute, y'all thought I was finished?
Shoot you in your head, then just walk off like I didn't
Let my money talk so much, put my jawbone outta business
Doing numbers in this bitch, I'm like a smart phone with the digits
Bitch!
Riding 'round with the volume down
With the windows up and the choppers down
Soon as we get to your block
It's the motherfucking other way around
My bitch say I'm too wild
She don't even know why she stay around
I get home and I dick her down
Now she talking 'bout exchanging vows
If these bullets was paintballs
I could fuck around and I could paint a house
You could tell I'm pimping
The way I hit the blunt with my pinkie out
I bring wine to Amy house
We smoke it out and we drank it out
And talk about these pussy niggas
That ain't about what Wayne about
I'm hangin out a Mulsanne without a brain, it's out of its mind
I pull over, I push a button, it change like Optimus Prime
Speaking of change, it's a shame how these lames dropping them dimes
We aim at your grape, knock it off, now you just vines
Blood Gang, red rain on these niggas, hot if you dry
My gang top of the line, hollering out "Squad, take it outside"
I'm a taxpayer, I'm a axe player, getting in through the back well
Red devil to the blue collared, un-enveloped blackmail
Fed up with the fed shit and Fed-Ex lost my package
My white girls say "Yeah, nigga!" My white homies act blackish
Ain't tall enough for the NBA, I ain't big enough for the NFL
Should've been in N.W.A., fuck the police, Five-0 and 12
One time for your mind, bitch, never say "Nevermind," bitch
You a penny short of a dime, bitch, no nonsense
Had a nine since I was nine, bitch
Yeah, born to murder
Bank account on fat, busting out the girdle
Tell 'em boys ain't nothing sweet, it's sauerkraut, ya heard me?
They find ya body in New Orleans on Mardi Gras on Bourbon
Like, oh, Lord, Humphrey Bogart
It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a crowbar
For the most part, I'm the southern coast guard
AK-47 spitting flame like a blow torch

Sorry 4 The Wait, woo

Tamamlandı

Bu şarkıdaki tüm yabancı kelimeleri eklediniz mi?