Grove St. Party lyrics

by

Gudda Gudda


[Intro: Lil Wayne]
Woo!
Hahahaha

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
I got a whole lotta money, pop that pus*y for me
My homie got that yopper, he a-bang it at a copper
Ayy, gangsta party, gangsta party, gangsta party
Stove on my waist, cook your ass up, gourmet
All-black four-four, do you want foreplay?
I'm going at your face like Oil of Olay
No champagne, but you know my flag rosé
Swagger on steroids: Canseco, Jose
No Limit Records: We so 'bout it 'bout it
I'm higher than a b*tch, feel like I climbed a f*cking mountain
Illest n*gga you know, my accountant still counting
Shot hit him a minute ago, but his body still bouncing
Beam on the hammer, beam on your forehead
Gotta kill the witnesses 'cause Birdman car red
Hollygrove Monster, Eagle Street creature
Come to your funeral, kill everybody but the preacher
I live in Miami, n*gga, I'll South Beach you
Robin Leach—uh, that's how we ballin'
You know that I'm loaded, but please don't think it's sweeter
Beat one of you b*tch n*ggas up like John Cena
Them hoes on Young Money, tell them hoes we coming
Boy, we get it popping, we ain't saving hoes, we swapping
Yeah, gangsta party, gangsta party, gangsta party
Big-head Desert Eagle, call it Sade
I just get that money, Stunna taught me that
That Xan took me under, Patrón brought me back
I'm leaning on these motherf*ckers like I caught a flat
And that Glock snap back like an old Starter hat, haha!
What the lick read? I'm in the big league
I'm a breath of fresh air—let the b*tch breathe
I'm tryna chillax, but I had to do it, Dev
I'm at the funeral, like, "I had to do it, Rev.!"
Mack, you my big brother, I'll split a wig for you
Put that on Mary P., until they bury me
Moment of clarity—yeah, that's my diamond game
I keep a fine b*tch 'cause I like the finer things
Haha! f*ck with me, slime
No brain on the whip, I got nothing in mind, hehe
Carter 4, they ain't f*cking with mine
I drop that Sorry 4 the Wait to make up for the time, yeah!
[Verse 2: Lil B]
Yeah I do my thang, b*tch what's up? (Swag)
Young BasedGod, came in with the ballers (Woo, woo, woo, with the ballers)
Iced-out chain, b*tch, I'm rich off that same sh*t (Oh, that same sh*t)
Sixty-five hoes on my di*k, b*tch, it's Christmas
Straight Westside, Bay Area b*tch, I'll grave em (Swag)
Pretty boy sh*t, Based God finna hang 'em
Armed like a cradle, and you n*ggas can't stop me (Can't stop me)
Shouts out to Mack Maine getting rich and c*cky (Mack Maine)
b*tch it's still Westside (Swag), shouts out to Weezy
Young BasedGod with that 55 heater
187 b*tch (Ayy), I pull a 2-11 b*tch
With that tiny shirt, man (Yeah)
And that (Yeah) tiny pants, man (Swag)
I'm on that BasedWorld, and I f*ck with Cash Money
n*ggas don't understand, man, they gang like a chain (Swag, swag)
Man, that "Woo woo swag," b*tch, brr-rang-dang-dang-dang
Man, bruh, off top, I'm a Wolfpack hitter (Swag)
Man, my life just a painting. and I paint you a picture
Man, think about it: a young paid-ass n*gga
This that stuntin' music (Stuntin' music); b*tch, I just do's it (I just do's it)
It's Lil B (Yeah, yeah) and I'll motherf*cking bruise 'em, we run it! (Swag!)

[Outro: Lil B]
Man, shouts out to Maine and Wayne, man (Woo!)
Shouts out to New Orleans! Westside
I can't believe it's n*ggas getting money down here who f*ck with me! Swag!
Weezy, I see you! What it do!
That motherf*cking partying
b*tches, man, what it do?
Hahahahaha
Yeah!
Ayyyyy
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net