Swag Surf Lyrics

Artist: Lil Wayne
Mixtape: No Ceilings
Year: 2009

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[Lil Wayne]
No Ceilings
Oh okay, I got this chrome on this Bugatti
I’m strong in this Bugatti
Two V8’s, 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 the bag, I bet I’ll snatch her purse
Okay I spazz, 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
Oh dickless nigga
Man I’m running with the blocka
Young Money motherfucker
You think we gonna do our thing?
Well ain’t it sunny in the summer
And we coming for the comers
And whoever among us
And you know I’mma bust my ass until my crew very humongous
I say 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 cost to be the boss, oh well I guess I got to pay
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 promise tomorrow
Now when they kicking it with me like Nomar Garciaparra
Fuke rolling killing plants, the Lil Tune shop of horror
And we roll them bitches thick, make them look like Tocarra
Man I’m to much for these nigga’s and three much for these hoes
The world is in my hands and I keep my hands closed
I love my baby mama’s, they get my highest honor
Got to 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
Quarter back shot gun, you don’t get any sack yards
Bitch I ball hard, breaking all the back boards
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 thirty feet tall
Tiger Woods, all these hoes trying’ birdie these balls
And the Porches 911 like emergency cars
Man I just be chilling, I’m cool like Lou Rawl
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 and new drawers
Uh, now get off my dick, I ain’t fucking witcha
Watch me shoot to the bank, I’m a money pistol
Weezy beat the beat up like Sonny Liston
Red bone do me good then her friend, her sister
I mean her bitch, she never met her best friend’s sister
I leave the pussy Micro-soft like Windows Vista
Young Tunechi, pop that coochie for a goon hoe
Bullet in you boys memory, now you act like you don’t know
East side 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 hopin’ that they will be where I’mma go
Take a nigga girl 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, then I swag and surf
No Ceilings!

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