That's All I Have

Nigga ain't let me catch my breath or nothin'

You heard me?

Ha! Peek-a-boo, bitch (yeah), swag scare your kids

My airplane clothes flyer than your bestest shit (really)

Gorillas in the mist, pro-black, pump they fist

I'm from the Planet of the Apes, King Kong clips

Silence lambs, bitch (yes), run through your land trippin'

Can't pretend when this is real as it gets, can ya? (No)

If shit hits the fan, I Ron Artest niggas (ha)

This how I'm living getting tatted in some house slippers

I like my bitches simple, lay back, relax ya mental (bitch)

Shit, you know what I do, now, tell me what you tryna get into

The man car's rented (right), the man car killing (yes)

Gossipping? Fuck the car, look at the man in it, ha

Boys-to-man business, we don't hire bitches

Just fire bitches, Young Money fire-spitters

Them red ants is with us and they ain't ate they dinner (no)

Begin the feast, feet lying, fatality finish

I'm killin these records, they put me in Guinness

I really don't give a f-fuck if you witness

You hear it, listen, buy it, steal it

I'm still gonna get my fucking percentage

I cuss a lot 'cause bitch I'm serious, young no beard

Get soup, like gumbo with shrimp

Flyer than Dumbo ears is, bitch

Now, my dog, T, was just rocking, you heard me?

Hit the weed, T, you heard me? Yeah

Uh, now let me start by sayin' I don't like this beat

But I weather the storm, I'm a lightnin' streak

Uh, Weezy F. Baby, I do it big, weigh me

Them crazy freaky bitches tryna to Cirque du Soleil me

Got some new bitches, trail got 'em laughin'

The one that gave me head can suck the nail out a casket

Shotgun on the kitchen table, bullet shells in the cabinet

Fuckin' with me is like steppin' on the tail of a dragon

Wet pussy is my cabin, more bitches than a pageant

I keep a house full nigga, call me Bob Saget

Spendin' time backwards, hotter than a cactus

And we ain't in the buildin', we the fuckin' contractors

Y-YM, motherfucker, why hate it?

Young Money down your throat, you gotta stay hydrated

Quaterback Weezy, young Tom Brandy

Open up your mouth, and catch a bomb baby

Good morning, dude, Eagle Street corner, Tune

Long dough, no short bread, no Lorna Doone

I'm warnin' you, we on the move

Bunch of female dogs and garden tools

That's bitches and hoes, hospital full, sick of my flow

Hip-hop was washed up so I brought some change to finish my load

I load millions and more millions

Money to the ceilings? Nigga, No Ceilings

Step up in this bitch, five o'clock in the morning

The world is waking up, you can hear the pigeons yawning

I'ma get that worm now, tell 'em it's my turn now

Y'all niggas need a lesson on some ethic, you gon' learn now

I do this for the love of it, saliva, 'cause I love to spit

And I juke it for my future records, y'all gon' love to spin

Fucking with my brethren, ten years strong

And he put them dreads in, Silver John Long

But he's more like platinum, hold up, here's a napkin

Pick your jaw up off the floor and tuck your tongue right back in

Tell me, where is Mack Maine?

That's all I have