Released: January 24, 2011
Featuring: Lil Wayne
Songwriter: Lil Wayne The Game
Producer: Bink!
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Uh, pardon my gang afill
But you steppin’ on a Rodney Dangerfield
Weezy Baby, how does the manger feel
Respect my aim because I aim to kill
Haha, old bitch ass nigga
Abercrombie and Fitch ass nigga
I talk rich shit cause I’m a rich ass nigga
I hope you in the zone because I pitch fast nigga
Hah, let’s smoke somethin’ bitch
My money come faster than a roadrunner bitch
I keep it on the side just in case you might wonder
Tech 9, 45, just in case ya like numbers
Haha, bitch nigga we might jump ya
Two step all in ya face, we might Unk ya haha
Bandanna on the right side, east side until I die
[Hook: Lil Wayne]
We wear them chains like its Mardi Gras
And we pull guns like Quick Draw McGraw
See I’m from New Orleans, Louisiana
And he’s from Compton, raise ya bandanna
We carry them caskets, we tote them hammers
Soo to the woo, yeah that’s our grammar
Lemme hear ya say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
[Verse 2: Game]
Young Money!
And that’s perfect cause perfect is to me
What’s perfect as Halle, or a jab from Ali
So capitalize the P cause perfect is Godly
Black Wall Street the perfect family, The Cosby
All I need is a perfect bitch, how’s B?
I passed the baton on Solange, I’m sure like Al B
But a Boujy B would never give me the perfect P-I-R-U
Hello Brooklyn I can’t see
Cause if I did, I’d be S-N-Double O-P D-O-Double G
Cut it in half and you will see that this Philadelphia piece on my head
Like a low Caesar, wear it to the hood and get me street cred like four Visa’s
Niggas fucking with Weezy, I will slow leak ‘em
Hang ‘em from a telephone pole like my old sneakers
Red bandanna for no reason
Put Weezy on, now the N.O. bleedin’
Yeah
[Hook: Lil Wayne]
We wear them chains like its Mardi Gras
And we pull guns like Quick Draw McGraw
See I’m from New Orleans, Louisiana
And he’s from Compton, raise ya bandanna
We carry them caskets, we tote them hammers
And soo to the woo, yeah that’s our grammar
Lemme hear ya say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Everybody say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Everybody say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Everybody say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Everybody say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Haha
[Verse 3: Game]
Can’t stop the red bandanna
Even if you put me in a cage full of orangutans
I’ll show you how bangers bang
Four five cocked back, move the crowd like Dana Dane
Switch plates, paint the Range
Leave so much blood on the wall look like the fucking painters came
Dead wrong ain’t it man, I told niggas I ain’t a game
All black gold chain, looking like the Saints is playin’
He sold a milli, I’m vanilli
So it ain’t a thing to make it rain in hundred dollar bills
We throwing paper planes, riding through the N.O
Red Marc Jacob frames, we disappear like David Blaine
And pop up at the Lakers game
They playing the C’s with Paul Pierce throwing the B’s
That make the ref affiliated, every time he hit a three
Ken Griffey lost all his fans taking off his red top
Bloods in New York like Manhattan took a head shot
I’m one blood, he the Carter with the dread locks
My whole team run base, we the fucking Red Sox
[Hook]
[Outro: Lil Wayne]
Black Wall Street, and Young Mula Babbyy
Game I got you!
Uh, pardon my gang afill
But you steppin’ on a Rodney Dangerfield
Weezy Baby, how does the manger feel
Respect my aim because I aim to kill
Haha, old bitch ass nigga
Abercrombie and Fitch ass nigga
I talk rich shit cause I’m a rich ass nigga
I hope you in the zone because I pitch fast nigga
Hah, let’s smoke somethin’ bitch
My money come faster than a roadrunner bitch
I keep it on the side just in case you might wonder
Tech 9, 45, just in case ya like numbers
Haha, bitch nigga we might jump ya
Two step all in ya face, we might Unk ya haha
Bandanna on the right side, east side until I die
[Hook: Lil Wayne]
We wear them chains like its Mardi Gras
And we pull guns like Quick Draw McGraw
See I’m from New Orleans, Louisiana
And he’s from Compton, raise ya bandanna
We carry them caskets, we tote them hammers
Soo to the woo, yeah that’s our grammar
Lemme hear ya say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
[Verse 2: Game]
Young Money!
And that’s perfect cause perfect is to me
What’s perfect as Halle, or a jab from Ali
So capitalize the P cause perfect is Godly
Black Wall Street the perfect family, The Cosby
All I need is a perfect bitch, how’s B?
I passed the baton on Solange, I’m sure like Al B
But a Boujy B would never give me the perfect P-I-R-U
Hello Brooklyn I can’t see
Cause if I did, I’d be S-N-Double O-P D-O-Double G
Cut it in half and you will see that this Philadelphia piece on my head
Like a low Caesar, wear it to the hood and get me street cred like four Visa’s
Niggas fucking with Weezy, I will slow leak ‘em
Hang ‘em from a telephone pole like my old sneakers
Red bandanna for no reason
Put Weezy on, now the N.O. bleedin’
Yeah
[Hook: Lil Wayne]
We wear them chains like its Mardi Gras
And we pull guns like Quick Draw McGraw
See I’m from New Orleans, Louisiana
And he’s from Compton, raise ya bandanna
We carry them caskets, we tote them hammers
And soo to the woo, yeah that’s our grammar
Lemme hear ya say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Everybody say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Everybody say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Everybody say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Everybody say: “soo woo, soo woo, soo woo”
Haha
[Verse 3: Game]
Can’t stop the red bandanna
Even if you put me in a cage full of orangutans
I’ll show you how bangers bang
Four five cocked back, move the crowd like Dana Dane
Switch plates, paint the Range
Leave so much blood on the wall look like the fucking painters came
Dead wrong ain’t it man, I told niggas I ain’t a game
All black gold chain, looking like the Saints is playin’
He sold a milli, I’m vanilli
So it ain’t a thing to make it rain in hundred dollar bills
We throwing paper planes, riding through the N.O
Red Marc Jacob frames, we disappear like David Blaine
And pop up at the Lakers game
They playing the C’s with Paul Pierce throwing the B’s
That make the ref affiliated, every time he hit a three
Ken Griffey lost all his fans taking off his red top
Bloods in New York like Manhattan took a head shot
I’m one blood, he the Carter with the dread locks
My whole team run base, we the fucking Red Sox
[Hook]
[Outro: Lil Wayne]
Black Wall Street, and Young Mula Babbyy
Game I got you!
more tracks from the album
Purp & Patron
- Purp and Yellow
- Ashes To Ashes
- I’m the King (Remix)
- Whip It
- Ferrari Lifestyle
- Dead
- Bad Intentions (Purp & Patron)
- Living Better Now
- History
- Burn NY
- I Just Want to Fuck
- LA Times
- Purp & Patron
- Can A Drummer Get Some
- Children’s Story
- Soo Woo
- Taylor Made
- R.I.P. Story
- In My 64
- Khaki Suit
- The Kill
- The Ocean
- Favorite DJ (Remix)
- Soft Rhodes
From the album
- Purp & Patron (2011)
The Game popular songs