Lil Wayne Ft SIDEPIECE – A Milli (SIDEPIECE Remix)

لیل وین – ا میلی (ریمیکس)

Bangladesh
Young Money!
You dig?
Mack, I’m going in

A millionaire, I’m a Young Money millionaire
Tougher than Nigerian hair
My criteria compared to your career just isn’t fair
I’m a venereal disease like a menstrual bleed
Through the pencil and leak on the sheet of the tablet in my mind
‘Cause I don’t write shit ;cause I ain’t got time
‘Cause my seconds, minutes, hours go to the almighty dollar
And the almighty power of that ch-ch-ch-ch-chopper
Sister, brother, son, daughter, father, motherfuck a copper
Got the Maserati dancing on the bridge, pussy popping
Tell the coppers, “Hahahaha
You can’t catch him, you can’t stop him”
I go by them goon rules
If you can’t beat ’em, then you pop ’em
You can’t man ’em, then you mop ’em
You can’t stand ’em, then you drop ’em
You pop ’em ’cause we pop ’em like Orville Redenbacher

Yeah, motherfucker I’m ill
Yeah, Wayne, I’m going in

I’m illy in here with them Young Money millionaires
Think you really pop a wheelie in air?
Mac Milli, the Vanilli’s in here
I’m a rascal, don’t get whopped
I get brats who don’t give top
I get tassel, pass you with a flow you could never put a brake on
And I break on anything a nigga take on
Feel the napalm from my trey arm, straight long
Throw a nigga like I’m Akon, cause I’m acorns
Where the base gone? get the base blown
Let the Pistons on that chopper
Come on, cops, I’m kamikaze, drop a rock with them Obamas
Illie in the mind, really with the nine, millie when I rhyme
Silly anytime fine, chilly, gitty on the grind
Shitty on a dime, Penny on the line
Plenty’s in me, any guineas with ’em
Bigger than a mini, and remind I’m
Illy, and it’s all off G.P.s and a PG walk by, beep-beep
Need a freak, skeet, hawk out, big feet on a jeep
She caught by Weezy F
We be the best, truly to death, prove me the rest
Groupies confess, you be the ref, excuse me, I left
Haha!

A millionaire, I’m a young money millionaire
What, ‘chyall really want it? Nah, y’all don’t really wanna do it
If hip hop is dead, I am the embalming fluid
And I don’t care who it be, I’m steppin’ to it
Notice I say ‘it’, cause to me, it ain’t shit
Get, it?
Call me whatcha like, trick, call me on my Sidekick
Never answer when it’s private, man, I hate a shy chick
Don’t you hate a shy chick? I had a plate of shy chick
And she ain’t shy no mo’, she changed her name to “My chick”
Yeah, boy, that’s my girl
And she pops excellent up in Wayne’s world
Totally, dude
You should see their faces when they see that this robot can move

And it say…
Hahaha, yeah
And it go…
That’s right

A millionaire, I’m a
Young Money, Cash Money, fast money
Slow money, mo’ money, never no money
What is that, who is that? I never heard of it
I will take your picture and make a “Rest In Peace” shirt of it
Some should take this beat and make a “Rest In Peace” shirt of it
Because I killed it, now, don’t tell no one you heard of me
It’s like the beat was screamin’, “Murder me!”
And I’m a murderer, so I murdered it
And you niggas is what I’m eating, I’ll make sure of it
And he who don’t believe me, I’ll make dessert of him
Sherbet him, I mean, shame on him, or her; Carter, father of
This rap thing, this is my race
Go on, take a lap, man, Weezy Baby’s nursery
Now, gon’ take a nap, man, it’s naptime
I’ll holla back at you at snacktime

Weezy…
F…
Yeah, OK

They say I’m rappin’ like B.I.G, Jay, and 2Pac
André 3000, where is Erykah Badu at, who dat?
Who dat said they gon’ beat Lil’ Wayne
My name ain’t Bic, but I keep dat flame, man
Who dat wanna do dat, boy? You knew dat, you dat swallow
And I be the shit, now you got loose bowels
I don’t O-U like two vowels
But I would like for you to pay me by the hour
Haha, and I’d rather be pushing flowers
Than to be in the pen sharing showers
See, Tony told us this world was ours
And the Bible told us every girl was sour
Don’t play in her garden, and don’t smell her flower
Call me Mr. Carter or Mr. Lawnmower
Boy, I got so many bitches like I’m Mike Lowry
Even Gwen Stefani said she couldn’t doubt me
Man, life just ain’t life without me
Hip-hop just ain’t hip-hop without me

Young Moola, baby
C3