Songtext Burn Lil' Wayne

Burn

Hammer on the dresser, work on the stove
I’m sittin’ on the counter blowin’ purp out my nose
Red ball necked, in the bed flexin’
I said bitch I ain’t impressed, you must’ve got the wrong impression
Hang with the best, I’m flying in PF
Man, we livin’ in hell like a deep breath
Real niggas with real money
Real bitches with fake asses
If she don’t wanna fuck it get on my skateboard and I skate past her
Money on the table, guns on the table
Since I’m on that serve tell that ho leggo my ego
And my girlfriend has a chopper
I finger-fuck that ho
Hello, I am Tunechi
You had me at hello
Drop top Maybach, clean like Ajax
And I don’t fuck with none of you niggas like rednecks
We got that work so come and get it
If we don’t know you, you pay tax
I put a hole in your apple
What that is? Apple jacks
Pussy nigga I murder you
Then dance at your funeral
Blood I have a nigga drinkin’ his own blood, chameleon
Wake up like bone thugs
I call you bluh, pick the phone up
Her titties fake but they look real - cubic zirconiums
Run up in your house, spare the kids and kill the grownups
Your bitch call me when she hot, krispy kreme doughnuts
Shout out to my new hoes, shout out to my old hoes
I’d still wear that ass out like a wardrobe bitch
What they don’t say
I’m still eatin’ rappers on my fuckin’ lunch break
Bad yella bitch with a tongue like a snake
I let her suck my dick and then I fuck it to some Dregen

Then let that kush smile, let that kush burn
Yea, I let that kush burn, smokin’ gasoline
Bitch the booth on fire, I may have getting higher
Young Money bitch we at the top like barbwire

Money on my mind, I ain’t think about no bitch
I’m talkin’ ‘bout that scratch like my motherfuckin’ throw ditch uh
Stop stuntin’ if you ballin’ by your bitch something
Stayed on the same team like Ted Duncan
She get real, let this kid go to catholic school
And if we want it straight jacket like the patted room
Search your ass a hundred times and stand over ya
Lil Tunechi so fly I got arachnophobia
Burn bitch, aka my firm grip
Meet if you feelin’ like Kermit, sermons
Preach, preach and I smoke your ass like cheech
But I be faed like bleach, double barrel Siamese
I like my swisher obese
Fuck that bitch like police
Fuck these haters with no grease
You get chin checked, gold teeth
Money talks bitch, your mind talk like Robin Lynch
That lean got me slow as Lisa Turtle, like Screech
Bank car heavy, my wallet like a bar bill
My girl got a fat cat, I call that shit Garfield
We will bring the Ok quarrel to your doorbell
We pull triggers, not cotails
I make lumpsums, oatmeal
I’m stuntin’, getting no money
Truck fit money but I don’t do money
Tell ‘em – I get better like try and rewind
I don’t fight you like Kayan
And the words of my niggas BP
I hit a bitch with a car bomb, boom!
Niggas gon talk, they ain’t talkin’ ‘bout shit
Niggas gon bark, I go Mike Vic
Fuckin’ fuck niggas on that fuck shit
Suck a nigga dick, fuck some club fit
And let that kush smile, let that kush burn

Then let that kush smile, let that kush burn
Yea, I let that kush burn, smokin’ gasoline
Bitch the booth on fire, I may have getting higher
Halla ass nigga if you want that ask ‘em mine too

Dedication 4