Lil Wayne

Lil Wayne - 500 degreez lyrics

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It`s the real shit, yeah 
500 Degreez this time biotch 
Yes sir, you already know 

You see me? I eat, sleep, shit, and talk snaps; so fuck rap 
Man I got weed, pills, pistols, all crack 
Bitch niggas where ya hearts at? 
Ya`ll ain`t stuntin` like us 
Bitch niggas where ya cars at? 
They like, "Wayne why the fuck you dressed in all black?" 
I`m about to bring CMR back 
And all the lames, we done lost that 
And all we got is Weezy, Weezy, and Lil` Weezy to fall back 
I`m about to lock it from the summer to the fall and back 
"Its Weezy baby" the ballers back 
And the wheels on my car you got all of that 
Stop playing, I`ve been balling jack 
You don`t want my glock spraying? I hit all them cats 
You don`t want my stomach ache,  I shit on them cats 
I get all them gats ? Fresh and B it`s all a rap 
If I`m the only Hot Boy what do you call that? 

You don`t want to fuck with Weezy 
You don`t want to fuck with Weezy 

Bitch what? I`ll bust ya ass up 
Don`t even go there round 
Niggas get your cash up 
We probably need to clash up 
And shit got me `bout ass up 
They finding niggas in they shit with they ass up 
It ain`t October 31st but we gone mask up ?and guess what 
And I heard they got a nice chain 
And for the right price I`ll bust the right brain 
And mommy hot cause pull up in that white thang 
Yo nigga might be fly but I still get trifling 
Riding through the city just me and my friend 
Friday night special, professional tight aim 
A gangsta is who you hearing 
Me in my building with 20 bricks in the ceiling 
I`m more real than, I got more scrill than 
Got more skill than them there 
I`m a Cash Money Millionaire 

You don`t want to fuck with Weezy 
You don`t want to fuck with Weezy 
Hot boy, hot, hot, hot boy, hot, hot, hot boy 
Hot, hot, hot boy 

Baby let me get the keys to the rover 
No, let me get the keys to the house in Eastover 
So I can throw a 500 Degreez platinum party 
Than the after party 
Me and my Squad stomping in this bitch 
Fuck a bachelor party 
Don`t go to rapper parties ? I`m no rapper man 
But when the homies come home we throw a monster jam 
And all my people tote chrome ?we some monsters man 
We gone mob to the promise land 
I bought big ? I`m a Tymer man 
Son of a Stunna, still a girl fuck with a hustler 
Weezy keep it gutter for ya Baby Bubba 
Baby blue Mercedes Coupe ? Got it bullet proof 
Make me shoot my 80 duke at your fucking roof 
You`re fucking with a big dog, nigga fucking woof 
Mr. S-Fucking-Q ? I`m the fucking truth 
Three stripes, baby nice, lot of ice fucking ooohf! 
That`s 500 Degreez 

You don`t want to fuck with Weezy 
You don`t want to fuck with Weezy 
Hot boy, hot, hot, hot boy, hot, hot, hot boy 
Hot, hot, hot boy 
Bitch get your mind right, bitch get your mind right
Get this song at:
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Copyrights:

Author: Byron Thomas, Dwayne Carter

Composer: ?

Publisher: Cash Money Records, Inc.

Details:

Released in: 2002

Language: English

Appearing on: 500 Degreez (2002)

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