Lil Wayne, Raw Dizzy ft. Thugga, Flow, T@ - YM Inkredible Lyrics

I pop some Percocets, then I pop some Xanax
Sitting back strapped, cocked, plotting on your man next
Jacked a nigga for his work, then stretch it like some Spandex
He hesitate, I spray and leave him like a Tampex
Oops, I meant a Tampax, bitch, I keep that anthrax
I can get your man whacked for a couple tan packs
Shoot up your Sedan 'Llac, nigga, I demand stacks
I ain't playing black, bitch, I be spraying Macks
And all type of guns with accessories
I'm like Cosby for the bills, I need mills like Stephanie
Pussy niggas can't stand next to me, I've got dope and ecstasy
Keep 'em floating like both of the levees breached
Eighties baby but my soul from the seventies
Worldwide game like I traveled the seven seas
You niggas ain't OGs, scary lil' bitch, please
Tun', they pussy in a can, Friskies (yo)

I got ten up on my pinky ring and twenty on my bracelet
Now these niggas kissing ass, but they can't say shit
I'm just here to separate the real from that fake shit
I told you I was coming and I'm sorry for the wait
I gotta get this money, man, it's right here in my face
I got the Devil on my back, I don't wanna be up in that place
My grandma tell me to be safe, I just keep running in these streets
I can't stop fucking with these hoes, but I say I'm just doing me
Bitch, I'm a Ninth Ward nigga, Mason street, D&G
That Florida right by the D, they need to free my nigga B
I ain't the type of person to be running from no beef
Those fucking guns are gonna be bursting
Somebody knocked off they feet
So watch your fucking mouth before you end up on that floor
And stop acting like you're hard because you know you've been a ho
I told you out the gate, I'm not the fake, I gotta say
And please excuse, almost forgot, man, I'm Raw Dizzy by the way

Money over bitches, bitch, I'm coming for the check (yeah)
Vampire living, bitch, I'm coming for your neck
Raw, I'm sharp, my swagger like an X
I'm a motherfucking monster, I rap like I'm possessed
Call me Mr. Still Smoking, smoke it in a paper
The game is a bitch, hold that down and rape her
Yes, I am a Blood, but I be wildin' with my skaters
We probably smoking flavors bumping Tyler the Creator
I'm an Eastside native, all my niggas Soo Woop'n
Blood, they went brazy when they heard I had a song with Lil Tunechi
Bitch, get some ice and pour my Sprite
And light my bong and my doobies
Fuck your producer, I'm the one that be producing my music
I'm a hippie surrounded by a lot of pot
Cock the semi, drop you like an Otterbox
They sleeping on me like I'm rapping with a blanket
Kill a nigga, have him thinking that he planking

All-red plaid shirt, skinny ass jeans on
Them goons at your front door, choppers out, ding dong
Didn't I change the game and put my motherfucking team on
Now let my chopper ring, blaka is my ringtone
Fuck you ho-ass niggas, I get money and get over hoes
We hold court with them heaters, pop, case open, closed
Looking for a bitch to hop up on my totem pole
And my blunt be stupid fat, double-stuffed Oreos
And I get loaded 'til I motherfucking overload
Been rapping, flows still tight like aerobics clothes
Ask them bitches, I told them hoes
They back it up like Sonny drive in Bronx Tale, Calogero
Lighter in my pocket, light the sky rocket
Pull them hammers out and run them niggas like stockings
Got some niggas from my city, Thugga, Dizzy, Flow
Sorry for the Wait, coming soon, Carter IV, biatch