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dre the weirdo - weirdo$tyle lyrics

[intro]
ayy
weirdo
let’s get it

[verse]
weirdo be my name
i want money, f-ck the fame
if i cop me a rari, watch a n-gga switch them lanes, oou
yeah i got a latina still doing cocaine
if i go to magic city, 100’s, 50’s, make it rain
it’s insane how weirdo spit all this off the brain
i don’t wanna fly commercial, give me a private plane
go to bermuda, hang around, yeah in the islands
yeah my girl skin shining just like all my diamonds, yeah
why these n-ggas hating?
they gone hate when you start money making
why these n-ggas contemplating?
why these n-ggas instigating?
they some f-cking hoes, yeah
they mad ’cause they broke, yeah
got all them bank rolls, ooh yeah they mad as f-ck
yeah fo’sho
yeah i got that nasty flow
i f-ck the baddest, nasty hoes
you run up on me
red dot, red dot, red dot, red dot, to yo nose
look at me, i pull up smooth
that’s me up in the bentley coupe
n-ggas really fruit loops
yeah n-ggas really fruit loops
the f.o.d., litty squad, come deep like the troops
n-gga you ain’t f-cking true
n-gga you ain’t f-cking true
i be getting blue’s clues
blue hundreds, what it do
bad b-tch, only f-cking me?
might make her my boo
i know why you mad, i can see it in yo eyes
why these rap n-ggas in the booth always telling lies?
i admit, i admit
never hanged out with the sh-ts
but i ain’t no punk b-tch, so don’t try me on that sh-t
nah bro, f-ck the gat, i’m a hit ’em in his sh-t
i’m no b-tch
i really said it, i’m no f-cking b-tch
n-gga snitch, on the other side, yeah you is a b-tch
lame b-tch
haha… lame b-tch

[chorus x2]
i’m flexing (x3)
run up on me, smith & wesson, huh
run up on me, smith & wesson, huh
i’m flexing (x4)
run up on me, smith & wesson, huh
run up on me, smith & wesson, huh

[bridge]
we f-cking, never the texting, huh
we f-cking, never the texting, huh
riding with smith & wesson, huh
riding with smith & wesson, huh
smoking the ganja ’cause i hate the stressing, huh
i hate the stressing, yeah i hate the stressing
guaped out, yeah i’m guaped out
you nine to five n-ggas go home, you need to clock out
these n-ggas so thirsty, like some hoes for the f-cking clout, huh
zone 6 n-gga gone blow you down
(pow!)

[outro]

- dre the weirdo lyrics

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