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lil wayne – green ranger lyrics


green ranger
(feat. j. cole)

[j. cole]
when this sh-t drop, i was like 16
tryna get some head from a mixed thing
big dreams, say goodbye to ripped jeans,
n-gg- got a job, have my little wad
worst fear is getting robbed for my last 50 dollars that i had left over
5 dollars in they pocket, n-gg- in his left shoulder
minimum wage 5.15. 13′s on the whip
kept my sh-t clean
actually that was my momma sh-t
but i’m driving round town on my obama sh-t
middle cl-ss my -ss, just to get a tank of gas
had to run the guns up the street and p-wn the sh-t
but, yeah i’m headed for a scholarship
little scr-p game but i got a lot of lip
thats why them n-gg-s don’t like me and always wanna fight me
a dumb n-gg- hate a smart mouth most likely
i know the game i’m an expert
n-gg-, how you gonna jump me if my legs work?
n-gg- i’m gone, showed up at the crib tryna bone
and i aint f-ck yet cause her momma always home
god d-mn, lor-lord have mercy
please god don’t let this little broad have herpes
my n-gg- says she fast like jackie joyner-kersee
gold medals if we gave hoes medals
no rose petals on a bed in the ghettos
spiderman sheets got us singing falsetto
tall white tee’s, can’t believe we used to wear those
white folks looking at us like we’re weirdos
but we was only kiddo’s
grabbing t-tties in the club, pocket full of skittles
tryna get the kitty was like tryna solve a riddle
tryna get the diddy, cause i murder instrumentals
it’s that good old fashioned mark jackson
f-cked then i’ll p-ss, y’all utah jazz
and ya’ll borin’, i don’t play n-gg- i’m mark madsen
thats why my knots thick like a f-cking kardashian
i’m not asking my n-gg- i don’t need favours
i’m in the streets with the fiends, i done seen danger
my team major, we party like teenagers
i’m in the green range, n-gg- i’m the green ranger
(i f-cking ran out of breath)
team major, we party like teenagers
i’m in the green range, n-gg- i’m the green ranger

[lil wayne]
i don’t even like this beat, but f-ck it
i’m only gon spit a few bars cause i don’t like this beat

b-tch i’m not old news, i’m more like gold shoes
she eat my whole d-ck, she like whole foods
they say i’m old school, but i dropped out
drop ya body off at a cops house
they throwing up them bricks, you better box out
my n-gg-s got enough white to build barack house
i got my drawers on, sam rothstein
44 on my waist, rick ross jeans
i’ve been faded, stone wash jeans
new p-ssy new money, new orleans
50 up in that uzi, g-g-g-unit
i murk you with that b-tch scratch the serial number, re-use it
i’m from the n-o, stretch you n-gg-s out like limo’s
uzi go zit-zit-zit-zit-zit, thats pimples
i’m bout to go banana puddin’
haha, you a dyk- cause your man a p-ssy
hit you from the blindside no sandra bullock
never bite the hand that feeds you, always wash the hand that’s cooking
tunechi, d4 hoe
shout out cole
you already know what it is, cole world
wayne’s world
we in this b-tch hoe
special delivery at your front door