Gumbo lyrics

by

Lil Wayne


[Intro: Lil Wayne, DJ Drama, Jamie Foxx & Lil Jon]
Yo Pierre, you wanna come out here?
We been out here
Gangsta, Gangsta Gri-zillz!
6 sh*t
Quality street music! (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Never 'bout a b*tch, it's 'bout a check, my n*gga
Never 'bout the b*tch, about to check my n*gga, that's my n*gga!
Make me do construction in your section, n*gga
Rari' doin' donuts, that's my breakfast, n*gga
Okay, you got soldiers, I got veterans, n*gga
And I got that white like One Direction n*gga, Kesha, n*gga
Only God can judge you, I must sentence you to death, my n*gga
Yeah, and you are not a topic in my section, n*gga
Math teacher taught me how to count my f*cking blessings, n*gga
Got married to the f*cking mob when I met it, n*gga
Everybody cried at my motherf*cking wedding, n*gga
Everybody 5 in my motherf*cking section, n*gga
Hoodybaby 6, so numbers lying in my sections, n*gga
Still got them Bloods, like a vessel n*gga, that's right, n*gga
Tell a blind n*gga, "Watch your step, my n*gga"
Left-right, n*gga, whoa, I let my n*ggas glow
My n*ggas don't speak, "Bap, bap, bap", quote, un-quote
Never had cold feet, stepping out moving snow
Cut the heads off the sheep and sit 'em all around the GOAT
O-M-W, BMW, N-E-W
I got that R-A-W, for the L-O-W
That's non-refundable, that's L-A-W
And we hate deductibles, like police hate untouchables
They see me in a car then they F-O-L-L-O-W
I drive S-L-O-W, with that B-L-O-W
I like it very colorful when it come to my jungle juice
I'm out here yelling "f*ck a truce!"
If he gon' act like Mother Goose, whoa
It's never 'bout the kids, about the pets, my n*gga, no
It's right between the ears, above the neck, my n*gga, whoa
It's very quiet, when you hear the weapons, n*gga, shh
They verify you by your dental records, n*gga
6 sh*t
[Verse 2: Gudda Gudda]
f*ck the city up, and I got the glizzy tucked (Baow!)
di*k hanging from the mop, look like a billy club
Fliest n*ggas from the city, b*tch, that's really us (geah!)
You pussies talking, boo! boo! boo!, now you really f*cked
Ridin' in the range with Maine, we switch lanes (Maine!)
With my bottom b*tch, walked the beach in Biscayne (Rrah!)
Real P sh*t, that's that M.O.B. sh*t
Look at me now, these pussies said I wasn't gon' be sh*t (Ah!)
Yeah, got a homie named Trel from Hoover, he might shoot you
Red rag hangin' out my right pocket, but I'll blues you (Doot!)
When them roosters touch down
We make them b*tches c*ck-a-doodle (Woo-woo!)
Take a shot at me over a beat, b*tch, I'ma shoot you
Got a b*tch named Vicky, she pretty, she keep me stiffy
Glock .40 in her purse, don't tempt me, her finger itchy (Ayy)
She ride so I keep her with me, she shy, but not with that glizzy
She high from hittin' the blizzy, eyes red like Trippie (Trippie!)
Hoody rollin' up, that boy smoke like a hippie (Hippie!)
Fill my double cup up with mud, that's right, I'm sipping
Yeah, retarded with it, I just might be the hardest with it
And you a rat, you be politickin' with the Sarge, Lieutenant
f*ck all you b*tches! Gudda!

[Outro: Lil Wayne]
Six sh*t
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
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