I Don't Like The Look Of It (Edited Version)

I Don't Like The Look Of It (Edited Version) - Lil Wayne (李爾·韋恩)/Nicki Minaj (妮琪·米娜)

Ok I'm sippin on the syrup

Got a n-gga moving slow

I'm all about the money

What the f-ck you think I do it for

B-tch don't act like you don't know

I'm killing all these rap n-ggas

Custom made caskets for you muthaf-cka funerals

Keep the women with me

Sh-t I gotta keep like two or more

Party everyday like we won the f-cking Superbowl

Chillin wit my n-gga Mack he keep b-tches handy

White girl on the table love them sniff nose candy

When I'm walking by the women say "Who is that n-gga "

I replied "Hi I am Gudda Gudda that n-gga"

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 muthaf-ckin' 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 n-gga 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 n-gga doin it just ask the n-ggas around me

So you can't size me up or try to clown uh

Shark in the water jump in and Imma drown ya

New Orleans n-gga Gun out Imma down ya

Put n-ggas to sleep like a muthaf-ckin' downer

Imma Great White yous a flounder

Fish and a b-tch I tuna eveything around ya

U-Haul Gudda moving everything around ya

It's Young Money B**ch

At the top is where they found us

Uhh Goons on deck

Marley don't shoot em'

Silence on the gun

Watch a n-gga mute em'

The coach in the booth

Call me Jon Gruden

School these n-ggas they all my students

All jokes aside I ain't playin' wit cha

The w**d broke down like a transmission

Tha choppa spin him round like a ballerina

B-tch I'm still spittin like I ate a Jalapeño

I'm from uptown my b**ch 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 sh-t Everything paid out

You could catch me courtside in Dwayne Wade's house

Wit a high yellow thick b-tch wit her legs out

Cash Money president but we in a red house

Who the f-ck want it Make my f-ckin' day

I blow your candles out now n-gga cut that cake

I gotta eat b**ches like a run-away

Y'all n-ggas ain't eatin stomach ache

Ok all these b-tches And n-ggas still hatin

I used to be ballin' But now I'm Bill Gate'n

F-ckin 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

D**e d-ck Weezy ya girlfriend an addict Uhh