All Gold Everything lyrics

by

Lil Wayne


Ayo, why you n*ggas wanna try to complicate sh*t?
Why y'all n*ggas wanna try to ask me questions now?
Y'all know what the f*ck I do, man
Don't ask me sh*t, man
Gold all in my chain, gold all in my ring
Cold all in my watch, don't believe me just watch
Don't believe just watch
Don't believe just watch
Don't believe just watch
Don't believe just watch
Gold all in my chain, gold all in my ring
Cold all in my watch, don't believe me just watch
Get up off my block, n*gga
See the gold Musson drop top, n*gga?
Pinky ring make a b*tch fart, n*gga
30-karat yellow canary rock, in her
Look, you got nerve lil' n*gga
King Tut ready, to the curb, lil' n*gga
I hope you listenin' to every word, lil' n*gga
Full course comin', this the hors d'oeuvre, lil' n*gga
Three-kilo gold Cuban on my neck, homie
Three dice roll Cee-Lo when I bet only
All gold uniform like my name Kobe
All gold unicorn pendent on my trophy
World champ of this whole sh*t, n*ggas know me
So much gold n*ggas b*tches call me Goldie
Did so much for the game, n*ggas owe me
For the co-sign I'm the one you gotta go see
Before you n*ggas try to approach me
Just know I'm in the corner, kinda busy where the hoes be
I'm the coke layin' under where they nose be
You the joke, n*ggas laughing at you low key
Now get to know the way the bro live
Derek Lam gold frames up on my nose bridge
Gold Ace bottles fillin' up my whole fridge
Showcase models, nails, toes did
Solid gold, kid
Gold all in my chain, gold all on my wall
Not only do I kill verses, but I wrote all of your favourite songs
Chris Brown, Jamie Foxx, killer rollin' in tank
Yeah I got plaques all on my wall, and I got stacks all in my bank
n*gga, n*gga, n*gga
How the f*ck can you hate, ungh
When I'm just doin' my thing? Aye!
What other n*gga you know, write pop songs, rap and make base? None
I am original, these other rappers sound typical
I got it locked in the figure-four
And they could never see me, I'm invisible
And I got...
Gold chain on my frame with the gold Jesus
Whole bank in my jeans I'm a gold Visa
Gold bling in my ring like a Saints helmet
Gold rappers on my di*k then your girl pelvis
F*ck, boy... we don't f*ck with no broke dudes
My jewelry game is bicoastal
And my piece is on my stomach like soul food
Your homie snitchin', he so fool
Over bread I'm a show him what the toast do
Seein' lines in HD like Pro Tools
Then hit the Hamptons and throw on my boat shoes
Cruise the Atlantic, stoppin' out in Trinidad
Make a movie, turn a island into Cinemax
Gold album would appear from a pen and pad...
Assemble that...
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