My Birthday Lyrics

Artist: Lil Wayne (Feat Kidd Kidd, Gudda Gudda, T-Streets & Mack Maine)
Album: ~
Year: 2011

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[Intro – Lil Wayne]
Red to go, I rap to go
Is the tune on?
Oh yeah it’s on
I got Streets in the booth with me
Dedication trois
Eh, eh, eh, emm

[Verse 1 – Lil Wayne]
Now let me talk my shit
Fresh up out the water like a caught fly fish
Weezy F bitch, I can say what I please
Swagger so cold it stay when I leave
I see you little dogs just shaking off fleas
I kill dogs like I’m making Chinese food
Rude only when I gotta be
Sometimes I holla, tell myself not to bother me
“Tell Lil Wayne not to bother Weez”
Shawty won’t be on my team, she could cheer-lead
Shit, like “go Wayne, go!”
Ice on a white T, I make a snow angel
Y’all niggas squares, but ain’t got no angle
And my shit’s so tight you can get strangled
It’s Young Money, ain’t no such thing as plain clothes
Polo jamas, Louis slippers, call that “private plane clothes”
Oh, I’m taking off, going to another land
Call her Mrs., never going to another man
Shawty rings Weezy, motherfucker I’m a lover man
Yeah talk that shit Tune, I gotta wipe my diamond grill with a tissue
I be talkin’ too much shit, I eat pussy and you suck dick

[Verse 2 – Kidd Kidd]
They call me Lil Nut, but my nuts aren’t the same
No homo, that’s how I came in the game
I married Mary Jane, I seen the Spidermane
The shit that made Pinky blow out the brain-brain
Told Lois Lane I can’t be a Super Mane
My heart black as Batmane and I keep that Iron-Mane
They wanna yellow flag me, throw me out the game
I’m back after halftime like it’s just an ankle sprain
No one could do it better, more hits than Eddie Guerrero
The flow like Eddie monster pointing at the competitors
It’s mass hysteria, historic in your area 51 alien
What planet is he from, huhh?
Ain’t no fun when the rabbit got the gun
Picture Bugz with the shotgun up to Elmer Fudd
All my thugs get dirty like we running in the mud
Yeah we 7:30 live-wires, unplugged, off the chain
Off the leash, untamed, put the gun to your frame
Bitch a bloodstain hard to come out like a nut-stain
I came from nothing, now it’s fucking cars, hoes and planes
Who the fuck could complain, huhh?

[Verse 3 – Gudda Gudda]
Yeah, so you mad cause I’m styling on you
Lights off, mask on, creep silent on you
Get violent on you, you a sissy like Sisqo
Gudda, I’m the East gang schizo
It’s no coincidence, man I bet your bitch know
How I knock her down with the Kosher dill pickle
High yellow nigga but my hot dog like nut skins
Bitches aiming for the pockets, you gets nutt skin
Yeah, let me get back in it bitch
I just go head first, you be on that Timmy shit
Get head first, then I be on my Jimmy shit
Shitting on bitches with that Chris Brown “Gimme” shit
Yeah, my nigga Streets say: “kill them all”
Bitch you know we got guns like the Pentagon
I’m just eating nigga, I’m getting my dinner on
And your bitch licking, getting her lizard on

[Verse 4 – T-Streets]
Talk reckless, I don’t give a muthafuck
I make you do what you is, bitch nigga duck
I come for you and ya kids like “nigga, what?”
Niggas with elephantiasis ain’t got bigger nuts
Young Money nigga, big dicks, big trucks
I’mma smash a nigga if he try to diss us
Go to court, the case get dismissed
Cause if we did time, your main bitch would miss us

[Verse 5 – Mack Maine]
It’s Mack Maine, ain’t shit to discuss
I get up in a bitch throat like hiccups
I Chris Kringle bullets with niggas for Christmas
Then turn to their female dog like “bitch, what?”
My niggas squeeze triggers til they got arthritis
My dick big, that’s why I walk like I got tendinitis
I spit nasty on the mic like I got gingivitis
The doc said I got a case of realnigganitis
He ain’t got a vaccine or cure strong enough to fight it
See I’m a warrior, they compare me to Leonidas
I got a set fee, I ain’t ’bout discussing prices
Cause I ain’t tryna go broke like Hammer or Mike Tyson
Wish you could see my face now, feel like I’m Portugiesin
See me and Streets be Street Fighting like Blanka or Bison
Slicing, dicing like we butcher knifing
Wifing bitches, never, that shit is trifling
Young Money the fucking nicest
Puttin’ words together like a fucking hyphen
Nigga don’t make us start fucking rifling
Nigga really it go to fucking striking
We got a lot of rappers striking
Standing by the harvest for fruit waiting for the fruit to ripen
We run up on niggas and jack them for their stipend
You catch me in Minnesota like I’m a Viking
I’m wit’ every video vixen out cha liking
I’m the reason your bitch dyking, ahahaa
Bitch I might get nikin’, nigga don’t want no beef
Look at Kidd Kidd, he like this
How I get like this?
I pump a nigga brakes, something like Midas
I’m trying to be modest, nigga I’m honest

[Outro – Mack Maine]
Fuck these niggas mane
Young Money nigga, Young fucking Money nigga
Ya heard me!
And this what I did for my birthday bitch!
I ain’t get no pussy, no nothin’
Let me hear that shit K nigga

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