Lil Wayne — Bang Bang

[Intro: Lil Wayne, DJ Drama, & DJ drops] Bitch! The Aphilliates, nigga, holla at your boy Uh-huh DJ Drama! My lip all fucked up You probably could hear it, like, on my P's and my B's, but it's cool, fuck it Gangsta! Get 'em! [False Start: Lil Wayne, DJ Drama, & DJ drops] Shooting 'til my motherfucking hand fall off You're track stars; the gunshot ran y'all off (Gangsta!) I pop like a soda, watch the can fall off I can kill y'all and y'all boss (Gangsta Grillz, you bastards! Oh!) [Verse 1: Lil Wayne, DJ Drama, & DJ drops] Shooting 'til my motherfucking hand fall off You're track stars; the gunshot ran y'all off I pop like a soda, watch the can fall off I can kill y'all and y'all boss (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!) Shotguns, handguns, louder than a band drum You fucking with the drum major, let me play you the anthem (Oh!) Bang-bang-bang-bang, call it heavy metal I say, "Bang bang," bitch, I make you feel every letter B-A-N-G, B-A-N-G G-A-N-G, we spray then leave We play when we—no, we play N-E- V-E-R; C-P-R Doctor Carter, are you the disease, boy? Young Money, motherfucker, *these* these boys Bitch is you crazy? We's retards Watch Nina, Mac, and Tommy have a brief ménage Like: (Gangsta!) (*bang-bang*, *bang-bang*) Hehe! Like: (*bang-bang*, *bang-bang*) (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!) Hehe, yeah! Soulja Boy on the beat But you can call me Chef Boyardee 'Cause I'ma heat this shit, and I'ma eat this shit Planet Earth is my toilet, you're beneath this shit Then I flush and wipe my ass; gunslinger like a pass I cock back and throw a bomb—now, Hail Mary You tale-fairy, fairytale, very frail And yeah, we got them hammers, tryna hit every nail Let them sail up the river with that ho shit Or leave them face-down in the fucking ocean, yeah I ain't on no other shit, bitch, I'm on some more shit That, "Hello, how you doing? I am at your front door" shit That, "Aww, naww, he got a gun! Oh shit!" ... shit Shit [Verse 2: Jae Millz] Okay, it's Young Money, what you know 'bout it? The semi-auto'll rip open your body and tear the soul out it And all that fronting shit, nigga, I don't know about it Call me Master Jae, bitch, I'm so 'bout it Even my ho 'bout it, and don't doubt it 'Cause we both a-be Angelina-and-Brad'-ing Spazzing and blasting, blasting and ratatat-ing And nah, I don't cook, but like potatoes, I a-mash 'em I don't give a fuck about your money or your fashion Shots through the window of your brand-new Aston You get out, try to run, now your chest where them bullets crashing Pine box niggas, no crutches, no casts, and No wheelchair, just the two-door, long, black wagon Flowers on the side, and four wheels to steer I ain't never scared, and I ain't never care So fuck what they doing over there, I'm doing it here You're nothing like me, fuckboy, don't be outlandish We gorillas in the mist, y'all just some "Kung Fu Pandas" Sweet like Fantas, ha My blood is the same as Bruce Banner's, hit record on the cameras Motherfuck all the bullshit and antics They saying, "He ain't gotta get a clearance from Wayne" That's a disadvantage Being broke is a foreign language for me, like Spanish Musically, I direct thrillers, call me John Landis [Break: Jae Millz, DJ Drama, & DJ drops] Hahaha Gangsta Grillz, you bastards! Fuck that nigga in the red jacket, nigga Gangsta! Gangsta Gri-Zillz! [Verse 3: Gudda Gudda] It's the 5-0-4 slaughterhouse bloodbath Lil' nigga stand tall like a gi-raffe One-man gang, animal, cannibal Eat rappers for dinner, my nickname "Hannibal" Guns for days, I show you what this cannon do Hit you and split your motherfucking man in two I grab the chopper southpaw, that’s how I hold the toy I aim and crank that bitch like Soulja Boy I’m in the streets one-deep, I can hold my own And shit, it’s only one seat, and I control the throne Look, bitch, I’m on my crazy-ass shit You see the gun poking out like Sheneneh lips, yeah Watch your lips when talking 'Cause I be on your grave, nigga, leaking in your coffin— Rest in piss! When I die, let me rest with clips Rambo, I’ma go on my Sylvester shit, bang!