I Don't Like The Look Of It

Lyrics

Ok I'm sippin' on the syrup  
Got a nigga moving slow  
I'm all about the money  
What the fuck you think I do it for  
Bitch don't act like you don't know  
I'm killing all these rap niggas  
Custom made caskets for you muthafucka funerals  
Keep the women with me  
Shit I gotta keep like two or more  
Party everyday like we won the fucking Superbowl  
Chillin' wit my nigga Mack, he keep bitches handy  
White girl on the table love them sniff nose candy  
When I'm walking by the women say ' Who is that nigga?'  
I replied 'Hi,I am Gudda Gudda that nigga'  
I was raised in the home of da Cap Splitters  
Whip on 24's watch it crawl like a caterpillar  
I come with a toy boy like a Happy Meal  
And yous a muthafuckin' duck, Daffy Dill  
I'm from the school of Hard Knocks, where we scrap and kill  
Pick the knife or gunner, you can get the package deal  
I'm hot nigga, burning everything around me  
I was lost for a minute took a while but I found me  
The streets say I'm King but the game will never crown me  
Realist nigga doin' it just ask the niggas around me  
So you cant size me up or try to clown uh  
Shark in the water jump in and Imma drown ya  
New Orleans nigga, Gun out, Imma down ya  
Put niggas to sleep like a muthafuckin' downer  
Imma Great White, yous a flounder  
Fish and a bitch I tuna eveything around ya  
U-Haul Gudda, moving everything around ya  
It's Young Money Bitch  
At the top is where they found us  
  
Uh, Goons on deck  
Marley don't shoot em'  
Silence on the gun  
Watch a nigga mute em'  
The coach in the booth  
Call me Jon Gruden  
School these niggas, they all my students  
All jokes aside, I ain't playin' wit cha  
The weed broke down, like a transmission  
Tha choppa spin him round, like a ballerina  
Bitch I'm still spittin' like I ate a Jalapeno  
I'm from uptown, my bitch from Argentina  
My pockets on fat like Joey Cartagena  
Stunt so hard, it's all y'all fault  
  
And when it come to beef give me A1 Sauce  
I ain't worryin' bout shit, Everything paid out  
You could catch me courtside in Dwayne Wade's house  
Wit a high yellow thick bitch wit her legs out  
Cash Money president but we in a red house  
Who the fuck want it? Make my fuckin' day  
I blow your candles out, now nigga cut that cake  
I gotta eat bitches, like a run-away  
Y'all niggas ain't eatin, stomach ache  
Ok, all these bitches, And niggas still hatin  
I used to be ballin', But now I'm Bill Gate'n  
Fuckin with my iPhone, bumpin Illmatic  
I'm on the road to riches, there's just a lil traffic  
Hair still platted, thuggin is a habbit  
Keep my guitar, Hip-Hop Lenny Kravitz  
Bunch of bad b-tches and I f-ck em like rabbits  
Dope d-ck Weezy, ya girlfriend an addict, Uhh