Lil’ Wayne – Swag Surfin’ Lyrics

No Ceilings..

O-Ok, I got this chrome on this Bugatti

I’m strong in this Bugatti

Two v8’s ain’t no such thing as driving calm in this Bugatti

Bitch I’m bad

I’m worse

I pass the purp

Don’t fuck with me ‘cause right now I’m higher than Cap-tain Kirk

I swear I be the sickest nigga, You can ask the nurse

And if you throw it in the bag, I bet I’ll snatch her purse

Ok I spazz, I curse

You last, I’m first

I’m on your ass- like dirt

Behind that cash- get murked

I’m talkin’ big shit nigga- join my hitlist nigga

What’s the matter? Check your bladder, I’m the shit- piss nigga

Shoot the witness, nigga

Whole court in the streets

And convict this nigga

Oh, dickless nigga

Man I’m runnin’ with the blucka

Young money motherfucka

You think we gon’ do our thing?

Well ain’t it sunny in the summer?

And we coming for the commas

And whoever among us

And you know Imma bust my ass until my crew very humongous

I said T.I. hold ya head

And Mack hold ya head

Wish I could, but I can’t say some other names ‘cause of the feds

And to my bloods- cold red

Man you know how we plead

And if it cost to be the boss, oh well, I guess I gotta pay

I-I’m a New Orleans nigga, I don’t take no shit

Take the brain off the whip, now it don’t make no sense

Stunt hard on these bitches, I ain’t promise tomorrow

Now when they kicking it wit me, like Nomar Garciaparra

Flute rollin’, killin’ plants, the lil shop of horror

And we roll them bitches thick- make ‘em look like Toccara (Jones)

Man I’m too much for these niggas, and three much for these hoes

The World is in my hands, and I keep my hands closed

I love my baby mommas, they get my highest honor

Gotta take care o’ them kids, Man I know you heard Obama

And I live on an island, Atlantic in my backyard

I just tell my pilot- to land it in my backyard

Quarterback- shotgun, you don’t get any sack yards

Bitch, I ball hard, breakin’ all the backboards

Pretty-boy Floyd, step up- I will crack yours

And even at the White House, we pull up at the back doors

Walk around, like I’m thirty feet tall

Tiger Woods- All these hoes tryna birdie these balls

And the Porche 911, like emergency calls

Man, I just be chillin’, I’m cool like Lou Rawls

Young money in the building, I’m puttin’ up new walls

Nigga, take your Mrs. Officer- and set some new laws

My flow is like rubbin’ two logs

Young mula we the new shit, and new drawers

(Uh) Now get off my dick- I ain’t fuckin’ witcha

Watch me shoot to the bank, I’m a money pistol

Weezy beat the beat up, like Sonny Liston

Redbone do me good, then I friend her sister

I mean a bitch, she never met her best friend or sister

I leave her pussy microsoft like Windows Vista

Young tunche, pop that coochie for a goon, hoe

Bullet in you boy’s memory, now you act like you dunno

East side who I do it for- Eagle Street, right by the store

Katrina wiped the city out- but couldn’t fuck with Hollygrove

Lost some real niggas, I knew from a long time ago

But heaven or hell, I hopin’ that they be where Imma go

Take a nigga gal, and make her come give me a private show

Still long hair, don’t care, like a Navajo

I’m the hardest shit- go in your ass and search

I smash this verse, and I swag and surf

No Ceilings.

(Hahaha.)