[Intro: DJ Drama & Lil Wayne]

I'ma just leave this right here:

The greatest mixtape series of all time

Uh-uh-uh-mmm

Care to debate me?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, sick shit, uh

I thought so

[Verse: Lil Wayne]

Keep that shit on Twitter

Y'all ain't lit, y'all litter

Keep that shit in your shitter

Or eat that shit, don't spit up, rrr!

Keep my bad bitch did up

Keep my main bitch put up

Watchin' me do push-ups

She was playin' with herself and I looked up, damn

Your thot need to get her look up, uh

You're plottin' on me, my foot up, uh

Your squad ain't hard, that's cushion, uh

That ain't sauce, that's pudding, ugh

Tunechi 'cross her bosom, damn

Shooting up the jurors, damn

Don't name my pistol, I named the trigger

"Benjamin Button", push him, bam!

Y'all just pussy

Get buried together and let 'em play footsie

Y'all just wussy, I got some bullies

Gon' pull up in hoodies and come take a look-see

Better play hooky, I got some hookers hookin' up with politicans

And some athletes, and some college niggas

Send your missus on all kind of missions

I'm the sickest nigga, skippin' doctor's visits

But my pots is pissy, smokin' hockey sticky

Put a stockin' on my face and hit a lick and

When the shit get ugly, I go Pretty Ricky

I don't fuck with rats, neither Minnie, Mickey

I don't fuck with cops, that's the piggly-wiggly

Fuck my bitches' friends, and they friendly-friendly

While your bitch is giving me her twenty-twenty

Like she tired of Mickey-D's, Wendy's, Denny's

Like she tired of Macy's, J.C. Penney's

I got bitches gettin' tired of spendin', spend it

If we winning, win it

I know dreamchasers that ain't never dreamt it

So I had to tint it and I had to rim it

And I worked the lanes like Shaq and Penny

It's the Blood gang, it's the money gang

Red rags to riches, need happy endings

Then it's back to business, and we laugh at sentencing

Hungry lawyers make a snack out' witnesses

Hungry artist or a starving artist

In the kitchen, restaurant, and cafeterias

Don't make a difference if you taste the difference

Better pay the difference to the racketeerers

Now your good luck looking like you cracking mirrors

Now the artificial become sacrificial

That's a body count, where the mathematician?

Where the wettest clitoris and fattest nipples

With an ass that jiggle with a grab or tickle

With a throat deep enough to land a missile?

If your nigga miss you and he have opinions

Tell him two cents is only half a nickel

Now we at his villa aiming at his pillows

Hair triggers, fingers finna act like bristles

And the cash, it triple; flip, kick, jiujitsu

Throwing pool parties, she don't have a swimsuit

Neither of her friends do, I think that's official

Got my neighbor's eyes bigger than The Simpsons'

And her man a simper, so I had to pimp her

And she had potential but he lacked credentials

So give me a sec, I'll go at your neck

And send you back lookin' like the Dracula bit you, rrr!

Yeah, cannibalism

Going animalistic in a land of civilians

These niggas clones, copycats, and chameleons

Once they dead and gone, no paraphernalia

When she left her thong, that's paraphernalia

Sound familiar? My plug Sicilian

He the one who told me that sometimes you gotta leave your

La familia behind the millions

Rhyme or reason, I'm the reason

Got their eyes wide, but too blind to see it

With friends like those, it make me text all my enemies

And tell 'em I don't need 'em

Hallelujah, power intruders

Bitch walking 'round my house like Hooters

Towel user, power user

Molly mixed with white girl, Molly/Susan

Niggas talking out their bowel-movers

Turn their homies into flower-choosers

Turn your kids into father-choosers

Make your bitch a widow and your mom a cougar

I'm a silent shooter with a silent shooter

Clap at you, if you don't die, I'll boo you

Tell a doc that's tryna save your life

And running wires through you, he could die next to ya, rrr!

I'ma make the nurse ride me like a giant scooter

Let her partner shoot it

We put out the movie, win awards

She got a Golden Globe head and an Oscar booty

Niggas prostituting

These rappers ain't talkin' 'bout shit, not even 'bout pollution

Ain't got a house to live in, ain't got a pool to swim in

Change in their pockets, nor a couch to lose it

En route to Houston with the contribution

Full of Monster juices, Mazda too slow

Macho, Cujo, macho mucho

Big bad wolf, watch the moon glow, rrr!

I got a Greek freak

She call me Antetokounmpo

Just follow the coupe, ho, and I know that you know

I'm hotter than soup, she still swallow my soup bowl

I'm out of my loophole, you out of the loop though

Got all these niggas on silent and mute mode

The power to do so, my pockets is sumo

Getting the mula by the minuto

Mafia Nouveau, I am the uno

Real boss nigga, should model for Hugo

Fuck with me, I go Lollapaloo-zo

Pull up, trigger finger, holler, and pull-o

Pow-pow-pow, sound like a symphony

Or opera, two-door, hitting some new notes

And I am the maestro, and you just a typo

Private flight, don't fly in too low

I'm wiser than you know, a private-school flow

I got me a new ho, and now it's a duo

One went to college and one went to JuCo

I had to ask 'em, "What's four plus two, though?" Rrr!

[Outro]

My ultimate basketball dream team

The starting five would most likely be umm

Of course I'ma have to start with Kobe Bryant, um

This gon' take a minute, um, Chris Paul

Uh, Shaquille O'Neal, LeBron James

And, um, oh, you know I'm gon say Steph Curry, hehe, Steph Curry

You already know that's my starting five, I got money on them

Holla at ya boy