Surf Swag (Explicit)

Song: Surf Swag

Artist: Lil Wayne

Lyrics: Lil Wayne

Composed: KE on The Track

KE on the Track

No Ceilings

Ah...

O—OK

I got this chrome on this Bugatti, I'm strong in this Bugatti

Two V8s, ain't no such thing as driving calm in this Bugatti

Bitch, I’m bad, I'm worse, I'll pass the purp

Don't fuck with me 'cause right now, I'm higher than Captain Kirk

I swear, I be the sickest nigga, you can ask the nurse

And if you throw it in a bag I bet I'll snatch her purse

OK, I spaz, I curse; you last, I'm first

I'm on your ass, like dirt; behind that cash, get murked

I'm talking big shit, nigga, join my hit list, nigga

What's the matter? Check your bladder, I'm the shit, piss, nigga

Shoot the witness, nigga

Hold court in the streets and convict this nigga

Ol' dickless nigga

Man, I'm running with the blocka, Young Money, motherfucker

You think we gon' do our thing? Well, ain't it sunny in the summer?

And we coming for the commas, and whoever among us

And you know I'ma bust my ass until my crew very humongous

I said, T.I., hold your head, and Mack, hold your head

Wish I could but I can't say some other names 'cause of the Feds

And to my Bloods, code red, man, you know how we play it

And if it costs to be the boss, oh well, I guess I gotta pay

I—I'm a New Orleans nigga, I don't take no shit

Take the brain off the whip; now, it don't make no sense

Stunt hard on these bitches, I ain't promised tomorrow

Now, women kicking it with me like Nomar Garciaparra

Fuq' roll them killer plants, the Little Shop of Horror

And we roll them bitches thick, make 'em look like Tocrra

Man, I'm too much for these niggas and three much for these hoes

The world is in my hands, and I keep my hands closed

I love my baby mamas, they get my highest honor

Gotta take care of them kids, man, I know you heard Obama

And I live on an island, Atlantic in my backyard

I just tell my pilot to land it in my backyard

Quarterback, shotgun, you don’t get any sack yards

Bitch, I ball hard, breaking all the backboards

Pretty Boy Floyd, step up, I will crack yours

And even at the White House, we pull up at the back doors

Walk around like I'm 30 feet tall

Tiger Woods, all these hoes tryna birdy these balls

In the Porsche 911, like emergency calls

Man, I just be chilling, I'm cool like Lou Rawls

Young Money in the building, I'm putting up new walls

Nigga take your Mrs. Officer and set some new laws

My flow is like rubbing two logs

Young Mula, we the new shit, new drawers, ugh

Now, get off my dick, I ain't fucking with you

Watch me shoot to the bank, I'm a money pistol

Weezy beat the beat up like Sonny Liston

Redbone do me good, then her friend assist her

I mean, a bitch she never met, her best friend, or sister

I leave the pussy micro-soft like Windows Vista

Young Tunechi, pop that coochie for a goon, ho

Bullet in you boys' memory, now you act like you don't know

Eastside who I do it for, Eagle Street, right by the store

Katrina wiped the city out but couldn't fuck with Hollygrove

Lost some real niggas I knew from a long time ago

But Heaven or Hell, I'm hoping that they be where I'ma go

Take a nigga gal and make her come give me a private show

Still "long hair, don't care" like a Navajo

I'm the hardest shit, go in your ass and search

I smash this verse, and I swag and surf

No Ceilings!

Hahahaha!