Wasted lyrics

by

Gudda Gudda


[Intro]
Ha...
Take it, FATBOI
No Ceilings
Ugh

[Verse]
Rockstar lifestyle, might not make it
President, got 'em in the White House naked
Looked at the clock and it say, "Right now"
Get a pound, break it down, blow it like trial
Panatela Dutchie, wine in my tall glass
Young Money, baby, big sh*t, like a horse ass
Stacks in my backpack, shades on, hat back
Bugatti, matte black—"Where they do that at?"
South Beach Miami, ho, I'm probably with Tammy To'
My life is a video and the women want they cameo
I just want them pantyhose, and I’m higher than Ger-an-imo
And I got them tools, tell them boys it could get mechanical
Now, pop that pus*y like a four-four
I turn you 'round and bend you over like a low blow
It’s Young Money, baby, we the f*cking greatest
We done put them other n*ggas on a hiatus
Beat your b*tch with the pump if she deny data
'Cause I’ll serve anyone like a blind waiter
I make my girl c*m first; then, I arrive later
I shake you pussies up, I'm a vibrator, haha!
G—Getting money like, "Hell yeah"
This sh*t so good, it don’t even smell bad
And you can tell Dad that I’m a motherf*cker
You n*ggas bet' not slip—Ice Road Truckers
Light-pole barrel, chopper stupid-long
New Orleans n*gga, I get super-dome
Loyal to the game, the game been good to me
Still spitting fire, you n*ggas wood to me, ha!
We on, n*gga; let—let them hoes know
Young Money lay 'em down like old folks
You coming with it? We coming for it
Plenty to go around—now, watch the money orbit
Real sh*t, people; now, just absorb it
I tried to pay attention, but y'all mad boring
And I got so much swag, I need an ad for it
And I don’t like to brag, so my b*tches brag for me
Oh, she a good girl? I got her transforming
She give me hot head, I call it "global warming"
If we gon' do it, dog, let's do it now
I—I—I am more animal than the zoo allow
Put me in the wild, I’ll be there for a while
You n*ggas Little League, call 'em Curaçao
Energizer money: it keep going
I’m laid up, I’m free-throwing
Who rebounding? Who gives a sh*t?
f*ck that, I got 27 years of this
Hit or miss, I hit your missus
You are local news; I’m 60 Minutes
I—I hit the target, I hit the witness
I work out in my office—guess I’m fit for business
Too many visions, completed missions
Still icing out crosses—keep it Christian
We consistent, the streets commend it
Weezy F. Baby, the "F" is for "Forensics"
From start to finish, Usain Wayne
OK, you doing your thing? Well, things change
You plain-Jane, I’m diverse
I save the world second, and I get high first
I’m a mind freak, check my time sheet
b*tch, I bring the noise where the lions sleep
Your flow never wet, like Grandma pus*y
I’m always good, like Grandma cookies
Yeah, call me the spleen or the spine fixer
It's going down like the Catalina Wine Mixer
She going down like the hands on my time-ticker
I’m always strapped—Vietnam, n*gga
We are fine, n*gga, like Amber Rose
We ball, n*gga, like Jalen Rose
Better tell them hoes, I got a million flows
Label me the hardest n*gga in civilian clothes
Young Money, baby, and the building grows
As we look up—where did the ceilings go?
[Outro]
Hahaha
No Ceilings
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