Cashed Out Lyrics

Artist: Lil Wayne
Mixtape: Dedication 4
Year: 2012

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[Lil Wayne]
The fuck nigga, them fucks nigga
My blunt bigger than these lil’ niggas
Keep stuntin’ with your bitch ass
You’ll get jacked and Jilled nigga
Fuck wrong with these sissy niggas?
I’m smoking that Bill Bixby nigga
I’m spendin’ money, spendin’ money
Ben Franklin dizzy nigga
Your bitch on my dick, I told her I was busy
She say: “Wayne on me, Wayne on me” cause yo’ ass need drizzlin’
That pussy came gift-wrapped, bow and a ribbon
And if she bounce that ass, then I’m dribblin’
That pussy so wet, it turned to a gremlin
There’s only one me, ain’t no equivalent
She give me brain, brain like trivia
I got a black bitch and a red bitch, I call them hoes Aunt Vivian
Uh, choppa knock your face off, black shades, Ray Charles
I be killing them hoes, I got your hoe up in my graveyard
I ain’t working with a full deck, but I pull out that Ace card
She grab that dick with 2 hands like she about to pray for it
Clips hanging, no curfew
Fuck you and who birthed you
I’m shining like church shoes
Birdman Jr., y’all bird food
I’m ’bout it, I said I’m about to cum
She opened her mouth, water fountain
When I’m on the scene I’m on that lean, bitch I’m drowsy
Man I’m so high, I don’t know what I’m laughing ’bout
I got bars nigga, and it’s happy hour
Uh, riding around with them choppa’s, not them Nina’s
Riding with a bitch named Molly and she on Molly, haha
Bitch I put my foot in your ass, karate
Man these niggas can’t see me like a diary
Smoke that weed, let’s get irie
Nina shut up, that bitch got her silenced
Top of the gun, there is a scope
I close one eye, I look like a pirate, fuck it
TRUKFIT my bitch up, Tunechi Li big nuts
I’m getting my dick sucked, I blow weed like it’s dust
Uhh, space head, love pussy, hate feds
Just bought my girl a Ferrari Spider
Told her drive it like it got 8 legs
I’m a made nigga, Machiavelli
That MAC-11 necessary
I’m a hard head, I pop the cherry
No pussy, no rats, no Tom and Jerry
They say your friends are your enemies?
Well my friends are imaginary
I’m the motherfuckin’ resolution like the 1st of January
My ride cold and my bitch hot
I’m tired as hell, but my dick not
I don’t gas no bitch, no pit stop
Smoke Barney and Baby Bop
Y’all niggas act like lady cops
My niggas smoke like coffee shops
That’s syrup gang, Waffle House
Gunfight, I’ll knock you out
My bitch titties is poppin’ out
We poppin’ up and we get it poppin’
Mask on, gloves on like Mickey Mouse
Clips stickin’ out like Nicki ass
Smoking on that sticky bag
Weezy F, I’m big and bad
Small feet, but I kick ya ass
I’m the trigger man and that shooting star
Eat that pussy like caviar
She treat that dick just like a straw
How you like them apples? Micro soft, now wipe it off
I do LIV on Sunday’s, church
Step off in that motherfucker fresher than some Certs
Uh, who the fuck is Stevie J?
I got the ball, playing keep-away
Kidnap your ass, kill your ass
Then hide your ass like an Easter egg
It’s Hollygrove to my deathbed
Just make sure my pillow’s fluffed
Hit a nigga with a million shots
What you call that? A million bucks
Good weed, we pass around
Money talks, mine got a nasty mouth
It’s Young Money, Cash Money
Till the motherfuckin’ day I’m cashin’ out
Tunechi
Ride around with them choppa’s, not them Nina’s
Your bitch wanna come over here where the grass is greener
And if you passing that weed, I’m the wide receiver
@LilTunechi, follow the leader bitch…
Oh yeah, Dedication 4 hoe

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