Inkredible-Lil Wayne/Rick Ross/Trae Da Thruth

I pop some Percocets Then I pop some Xanax Sitting back, strapped, cocked Plotting on your man next Jack a ni**a for his work And stretch it like some Spandex He hesitate, I spray and leave him Like a Tampex – oops, I meant a Tampax B**ch, I keep that anthrax I can get your man wacked, for a couple Tan packs Shoot off your Sedan lap Ni**a, I demand stacks I ain't playing, black B**ch, I be spraying Macks All type of guns with accessories I'm like Cosby for the bills I need mills like Stephanie P**sy niggas can't stand next to me I've got d**e and ecstasy Keep em floating like both of the levees breached 80s baby but my soul from the 70s Worldwide game like a travelled the 7 seas Niggas ain't OG, scary lil b**ch, please Tune ate p**sy in the can. Frisky I got 10 up on my pinky ring and 20 on my bracelet Now these niggas kissing a**, but they can't say sh*t I'm just here to separate the real from the fake sh*t I told you, I was coming n I'm sorry for the wait I gotta get this money Mane, it's right here in my face I got the Devil on my back I don't wanna be up in that place My mom tell me to be safe I just keep running in these streets I can't stop f**kin with these hoes But I say I'm just doing me B**ch, I'm a 9th Ward ni**a Mason street, D&G That Flordia right by the D they need to free my ni**a B I ain't the type of person to be running from no beef Those f**king guns are gonna be bursting Somebody knocked off their feet So watch your f**king mouth Before you end up on that floor and stop Acting like you're hard cause You know you've been a ho I told you out the gate I'm not the fake I gotta say it, please excuse Almost forgot I'm all Dizzy by the way Money over b**ches, b**ch I'm coming for the check Vampire living, b**ch I'm coming for your neck Raw! I'm sharp, my swagger like an X I'm a motherf**king monster I rap like I'm possessed Call me Mr. Still Smoking, smoke it in a paper The game is a b**ch, hold her down and R**e her Yes I am a Blood but I be wylin' with my skaters We probably smoking flavors bumping Tyler the Creator I'm a Eastside native, all my niggas Soo Woopin' They went crazy when they heard I had a song With Lil Tunechi, b**ch! Get some ice and pour my Sprite And light my bong and my doobies F**k your producer I'm the one that be producing my music I'm a hippie surrounded by a lot of pot Pot is in me Drop ya like an Otterbox Sleeping on me like I'm rapping with a blanket Kill a ni**a have him thinking that he planking All-red plaid shirt, skinny a** jeans on Them goons at your front door, choppers out: "ding dong!" Didn't I change the game and put my motherf**king team on Now let my chopper ring "Baka!" is my ringtone F**k you ho-a** niggas, I get money and get over hoes We hold court with them heaters "Pop!" case open/closed Looking for a b**ch to hop up on my totem pole And my blunt be stupid-fat, double-stuffed – Oreos I get loaded til I motherf**king overload Been rapping, flows still tight like aerobic's clothes Ask them b**ches, I told em hoes They back it up like Sunnydrive and Bronx Tale Cologero Lighter in my pocket, light the sky rocket Pull em hammers out and run them ni**a's like Stockings Got some niggas from my city Thugga, Dizzy, Flow Sorry 4 the Wait, coming soon, Carter IV, b**ch!