Lil Wayne Lyrics
Gossip (50 Cent Diss) Lyrics
I hate gossip
And I don't walk around lookin for it, you know?
But, yesterday It Seemed to just wander around till it found me you know like
The gossip found me
Then why don't you just prove it.
How? You don't know how to prove it?
Well, what you just do is...
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop... (Ooo)
Stop... hatin on a nigga
That is a weak emotion
The lady of a nigga
And you could get tipped
Like ya waitin on a nigga
Put a body bag and an apron on tha nigga...
I give my all behind the mic,
But you could never see, if you sit behind the light
You don't have to pick me... to win the title fight
But I'm gone wear that championship belt soo tight
And if I'm wrong, there is no right
And if I'm wrong, there is Snow White...
I'm tryna be polite, but you bitches in my hair like the f*ckin PO-LICE, and
My flow is rare, these other rappers nice,
These other rappers bark,
Some of em' even bite
But I'm much more bright
I give the game sight
So before you dim the light you just might... might... wanna
Think it over (think it over) Oo
Think it over (think it over) Baby... get em
[Lil Wayne: ]
Stop... analyzin' critacizin',
You should realize what I am and start epidamizin'
Lagenament, got the heart of the biggest lion
Confident like f*ck em all pull out my dick and ride it
My flow sick, so sick, it's like my shit is dyin'
It rains a lot in my city, cause my citys cryin'
Cause my citys dyin'
But I emerge from all of that, I am a living pion eer near zion,
Fear god not them,
Steer my Robin Coupe through the streets of the boot...
And soo woop, and then I leave a tub in the booth, I leave a bloodbath,
Sorry that's a tub in the booth, now where the drugs at?
Like the strings on the shoe
Nah nigga f*ck that
I'm twisted like the string on a boot, where New Orleans at?
I feel hip hop stole me like a bus pass
So in your possession, I must ask...
Hey, haven't I been good to you? (Think it over)
Tell me, haven't I been sweet to you?
Drag my name through the mud
I come out clean
Cast away stones
I won't even blink
A gun is not a math problem,
I won't even think
Just leave you dead like the mink under my sink
Don't believe in me
Don't believe me
I graduated from hungry,
And made it to greedy
My flow is like pasta
Take it and eat it
But I'm gone need cheese if I'm bakin' the ziti
You niggas want beef,
I want a steak and uh we be,
Lost in Amsterdam or Jamaica, where weed be,
Hard body nigga, just takin it easy,
All about my paper, bout my paper like EZ,
Wider wrappers, why do rappers, lie to fans, lie to rappers,
Lotta rappers, lie like actors, cut tha motherf*ckin cameres
Cut the check... f*ck ya props
And make it out to mr. hip hop
And I ain't dead I'm alive [pulse]