No Hook lyrics

by

Lil Wayne


[Intro: Jim Jones]
Jones!
You understand what's going on right now?
Dipset, Bird Gang, some real Geed up shhit
Listen
305, all the way to the top
Eh Khaled, what's good?

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Rocks like bolder game
Crazy upstate
Test the Rolls in the lane, racing up the A
We betting thousands on street corners
Roll the dice with police on us
Slow like the Henesy
Cold tonight, need the seat warmers
[?] slice [?]
[?]
4 door, welcome [?]
Heavy supercharger
Goods, no war
That's for beginners, I'm living like a winner

[?]

[Verse 2: Styles P]
You don't want a robbery, nobody trying me
Looking for some good in me, lil bit of god in me
Right now, whole lotta sh*t startin to bother me
Wanna see some vains spilled, sh*t load of arteries
Any rap motherf*cker tryna say they hard as me
Tell the truth, I don't know why these n*ggas start with me
I been in it now, f*ck a semi
Get a rocket launcher, I better shoot your Bentley or your hand me downs
Khaled, you should warn them n*ggas, ad an extra listen on 'm
Then figure out who make the paper that say "missing" for 'm
Layin on the top, bigger than a fishing form
Go and get your whole crew, round up the craziest
Send them here, I'll send them back and show you what the raiser did
We ain't getting paper n*gga, you can meet your maker n*gga
Turn you purple and yello, just like a laker n*gga
[Verse 3: Cassidy]
Any cat that rap, step to me, I'd catch a felony
I just beat a murder, what the f*ck these n*ggas telling me?
I'm not into this rap sh*t, practicing infedelity
These [?]
I could still sell a key
I'm the hustler motherf*cker, I could sell a tree
To the forest, the hardest n*ggas is with me
Mad cause they money is funny like Bill Belomy
And wanna put a shell in me, dog but it's all jealousy
You smellin me, but you refuse to diss me
Cause I keep a tool that could f*ckin remove a kidnie
I keep a 9, the same kind Shyne used for Diddy
Plus I keep the chopper, it pop when I crues the city
Just in case a n*gga get wreckliss, try to test this
And I gotta knock out his breakfast out his intestines
Said I'm on his death list, I don't care what n*ggas bout
If I hear a n*gga mouth, then Imma air a n*gga out

[Verse 4: Rob Cash]
My bro Khaled said "bring the heat", birds think I got it, sweet
Cause I rode with Pistol Pete, my sh*t complete
I don't take it, I make it, but you can't
You can't slip, can't even kiss a freak in your Benz
Please don't try to preach
You couldn't even last a week in these damb streets
Cause you'll catch dots on your face, like acney
Do this sh*t for fun, you better run like a track meet
Cause you don't want the gun dumped on your tung like ass cheaks
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