Artist: Lil Wayne
Album: –
Year: 2020
[Chorus – Lil Wayne]
From stuffing rocks in my Polo socks, yeah
From stuffing rocks in my hoe lil’ bra, stash
From in her purse to in her house, yeah
[Verse 1 – Lil Wayne]
AK with the telescope, filet with a cherry coke
Enjoying the fruits of my labor, I pop that cherry hoe
Kush loud as a stereo, I got all these medicals
Powder bags of heavy snow, Eskimo, I’m askin’ more
All that gas like Texico, all that ass you sexy hoe
To my white girl, to my weed, that Mary Jane, that Mary Joe
Private planes and heavy doors, meeting bitches in metaphors
Like these singers poor like Singapore
From heaven’s gates to the devil’s doors
I’m joog, I’m hustling baby
All my money, I custom-made it
Numbers don’t lie but people do
That’s why they turn their back on you like 180
Degrees, please, I run with Gs
They got my back, I front me some keys
I smell a rat, they stunk up the streets
Now my peeps ’bout to come with them pumps, like Febreze
[Bridge – Lil Wayne]
Joog in a hundred degrees
Joog in the cold winter breeze
This yayo almost to my knees
I play in the snow till I freeze
She play with the snow till she sneeze
She way up, she in the nosebleeds
We break in your door for them keys
And you lay on your floor till we leave
Here to joog
[Chorus – Lil Wayne]
From stuffing rocks in my Polo socks, yeah
From stuffing rocks in my hoe lil’ bra, stash
From in her purse to in her house, yeah
I hit a joog and then I bounce
Joog
[Verse 2 – Lil Wayne]
I joog out the back of the Hummer
I joog out the back of the complex
I work that wrist like a Timex, I do it big nigga, 5X
I did not give out no freebie, I don’t play Let’s Make A Deal
I’m taxing if you fake nigga, I’m taxing if you trill
Work, work, I got that work, perc serving, I got them percs
All of these medicine bottles, balling like Cedric Ceballos
And Nina just swallowed some hollows
Oh shit, that bitch ’bout to burp
And you know that it’s fuck the world
So I put your dick in the dirt
Ball on a fuck-nigga, spending paper
All these fuck-nigga instigators
Fuck-nigga head in a refrigerator
Chef ’bout to bring it to the dinner tables
My bitch do lines like printing paper
Had to hide the cocaine from the bitch
Had to hide the cocaine from the bitch
Had to hide the cocaine from the bitch
Just made another bitch love the dick
Just made another bitch cum cum
Who the motherfucker? I’m the motherfucker (me)
Here come the undercovers, better run for cover
And when we under pressure, we get overheated
And we overheated, we turn on the army
And bring a hurricane to a thunderstorm
And leave your block looking like a slumber party
Too much stashed in my undergarments
Too much cash, that’s an understatement
Too many hoes I could understand
But I’m losing all my wars to the undertaker
And I’m ’bout to make these hoes shake their money maker
And I fuck a bitch till she making funny faces
Jooging like that motherfucker Freddy Krueger
I’m jooging like that crazy motherfucker Jason
I’m jooging, these other niggas jig
You see not me, I joog, drive horses in that hood
Come through that bitch like vroom, vroom
Come through that bitch like ugh
Lil’ boy your bitch so ugh, my spoiled bitch so good
I’m oil rich, I’m good
Joog, joog, joog, I joog, joog, joog
Wish a nigga would, good, good
I leave his block like ugh, ugh, ugh
No Ceilings
[Chorus – Lil Wayne]
From stuffing rocks in my Polo socks, yeah
From stuffing rocks in my hoe lil’ bra, stash
From in her purse to in her house, yeah
I hit a joog and then I bounce
[Verse 3 – Lil Wayne]
I’m good, I’m good, I’m good, good
I’m good like I never been better
I’m good, I feel like more right than Betty
I joog, joog, joog, jooging
Joog like my shotty on Jefe
I joog like my shotty on Jefe
AK with the telescope, filet with lil’ cherry Coke
AK with the telescope, filet with lil’ cherry Coke
Enjoying the fruits of my labor, I pop that cherry hoe
Kush loud as a stereo, I got all these medicals
Powder bags of heavy snow, Eskimo, I’m askin’ more
All that gas like Texaco, all that ass you sexy hoe
To my white girl, to my weed, that Mary Jane, that Mary Joe
Ballin’ on a fuck-nigga, spending paper
All these fuck-nigga instigators
Fuck-nigga head in a refrigerator
Chef ’bout to bring it to the dinner table
My bitch do lines like printing paper
Had to hide the cocaine from the bitch
Had to hide the cocaine from the bitch
Had to hide the cocaine from the bitch
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