500 degreez

Lyrics

, 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