We Da Kings

By Lil Wayne

On The Suffix

Released on October 1, 2005

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[Verse 1: Curren$y]

Hot Spitta be on point game tight

Might see me in five different cars in the same night

Me and Maine came through on the same flight

Hooked up with that nigga Wayne I been living a changed life

I don't never wear the same thing twice

Because I'm paid like my car note, straight out

Fuck around Imma be there with them K's out

All my guns got numbers and letters

That's M-A-C 11, A-K 4-7, might hit you up with that A-R 15

Might shave my head and change my name to Mr. Clean

Yea, that's cause my style got no flaws

I got your girl at my house with no draws

And on my feet there's lightning bolts and stars

Thats Bape motherfuckers, for you late motherfuckers

Blow your candles out your cake, motherfucker


[Verse 2: Mack Maine]

Okay I talk it cause I did it

Walk it cause I live it

You depending on rap your money shorter than midgets

You got Bushwick Bills, I push snips still

Cause I ain't go platinum yet but I live like it

And I ain't related to Roy Jones but I fight like it

And I ain't the best in the game yet but I write like it

See you can hate all you want but your bitch like it

Put my mixtape on and watch her twerk and get excited

Forget that, bitch I'm tryna chill with Ashanti

And maybe get Beyonce to be my first fiancé

Me go gold when I drop, nigga is you kidding me?

Even cats with no arms is still feeling me

In the hood I get treated like I'm a Kennedy

See hustling is the sin of me, but fiends need the remedy

In elementary, most likely for penitentiary

Now the top 10 out the drop, you gotta mention me


[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]

I got a million in my safe and the bank got more for me

Cash Money Young Money never ever know money

Head chest toes for me

Red mess, so bloody

Great .44 bust and lead left nobody

What it is, let a nigga hold something

Make a nigga take it from ya ass like you owe something

Eagle Street, 17th Ward, Hollygrove youngin'

Find me in the bakery bitch, I know that dough coming

I got a load in the washer throw some bleach on it

One dick five bitches and they each on it

Straight face all lip no teeth on it

Mama ride straight dick no seats on me

MVP from the streets with the beats on 'em

Young Wayne untamed no leash homie

Infected flow I spit that yeast on 'em

Birdman Jr. fly away like geese on 'em, gone