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lil wayne – cashed out lyrics


cashed out

[verse 1: lil wayne]
f-ck n-gg-, them f-ck n-gg-s
my blunt bigger than these lil n-gg-s
keep stuntin with your b-tch -ss
you’ll get jacked and jilled, n-gg-
f-ck wrong with these sissy n-gg-s?
i’m smoking that bill bixby n-gg-
i’m spendin money, spendin money
ben franklin dizzy n-gg-!
your b-tch on my d-ck, i told her i was busy
she say “wayne on me, wayne on me” cause yo -ss need drizzlin’
that p-ssy came gift-wrapped: bow and a ribbon
and if she bounce that -ss then i’m dribblin
that p-ssy so wet, it turned into a gremlin
there’s only one me, ain’t no equivalent
she give me brain, brain like trivia
i got a black b-tch and a red b-tch
i call them hoes aunt vivian
chopper knock your face off
black shades, ray charles
i be killing young hoes
i got your ho up in my graveyard
i ain’t working with a full deck
but i pull out that ace card
she grab that d-ck with 2 hands
like she about to pray for it
clips hanging, no curfew
f-ck you and who birthed you
i’m shining like church shoes
birdman jr.: y’all birdfood
i’m bout it.. i said i’m about to c-m
she opened her mouth: water fountain
when i’m on the scene i’m on that lean
b-tch, i’m drowsy
man, i’m so high i don’t know what i’m laughing about
i got bars, n-gg-
and it’s happy hour!

[verse 2]
riding round with them choppas, not them ninas
riding around with a b-tch named molly and she on molly — ha!
b-tch i put my foot in your -ss: karate
man these n-gg-s can’t see me like a diary
smoke that weed, let’s get irie
nina shut up, that b-tch got a silencer
top of the gun there is a scope
i close one eye, i look like a pirate, f-ck it!
trukfit my b-tch up, tunechi lee big nuts
i’m getting my d-ck sucked
i blow weed like it’s dust!
sp-cehead: love p-ssy, hate feds
just bought my girl a ferrari spider
told her drive it like it got 8 legs
i’m a made n-gg-: machiavelli
that mack-11 necessary
i’m a hard head: i pop the cherry
no p-ssy, no rats, no tom and jerry
they say your friends are your enemies?
well, my friends are imaginary
i’m the motherf-ckin resolution like the 1st of january
my ride cold and my b-tch hot
i’m tired as h-ll but my d-ck not
i don’t gas no b-tch, no pitstop
smoke barney and baby bop!
y’all n-gg-s act like lady cops
my n-gg-s smoke like coffee shops
that’s syrup gang, wafflehouse
gunfight, i’ll knock you out
my b-tch t-tties is poppin out
we poppin up and we get it poppin
mask on, gloves on
like mickey mouse, clips stickin out
like nicki’s -ss
smoking on that sticky bag
weezy f: i’m big and bad
small feet, but i kick your -ss
i’m the trigger man, that shooting star
eat that p-ssy like caviar
she treat that d-ck just like a straw
how you like them apples, microsoft?
now wipe it off..
i do liv on sundays: church!
step off in that motherf-cker fresher than some certs
uuh! who the f-ck is stevie j?
i got the ball, playing keepaway
kidnap your -ss, kill your -ss
then hide your -ss like an easter egg!
it’s hollygrove to my deathbed
just make sure my pillow’s fluffed
hit a n-gg- with a million shots
what you call that? a million bucks
good weed, we p-ss around
money talks: mine got a nasty mouth
it’s young money, cash money
til the motherf-ckin day i’m cashin out!

riding round with them choppas, not them ninas
your b-tch wanna come round her where the gr-ss is greener
and if you p-ssing that weed i’m the wide reciever
ad lib tunechi follow the leader b-tch