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Whip It Lyrics

from Tha Carter III

"Whip It" is track #10 on the album Tha Carter III. It was written by Carter, Dwayne / Harrison, Darius.
"Whip It" is track #10 on the album Tha Carter III. It was written by Carter, Dwayne / Harrison, Darius.

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Okay, you aint know shit
Its Weezy F baby like a newborn bitch
You aint know shit
I put your girl to work now, heres a uniform bitch

Pimpin over here and I aint Santa Clause
But yeah, I make it rain dear
Money out the ass
Yeah, money out the rear

Weezy at the plate
I could bunt it out of here safe as a motherfucker
Aint no safety button on this motherfucker
Where the safe motherfucker?

Thats the case, Doc the judge
Weezy F the ample fury
Hang 12 witnesses
Thats what I call a hung jury

Brung Jerry Bling Bling
I made that but I dont even say that
As much as [unverified] say that
Thats way back

Boy you should catch up
It must of been mine, theys
Long hair, pretty eyes
Light skin, fine legs

Phat ass, skinny stomach
Pretty feet, pretty woman
Walking down the street
Cause I put her out my jeep

I dont save em, I slave em
They want Weezy F
I bad grade em, I dont degrade em
I serenade em

100 on the chest, 100 on the arm
Rings so thick I cant even make a fist
Nigga, fuck how you do it
Cause I do it like this

Yeah, and I just do my Wayne
And every time I do it I do my thang
Yeah, and I just do my Wayne
And every time I do it I do my thang

Kunta Kinte on my shit, nigga
Like I ate a plate of roots for dinner
But I ate a plate of loot for dinner
Im in the garden sellin fruit to sinners

Like apples to Shaq, hey big spender
And do remember just like Brenda
2 grand still get ya four and a baby
Ima kill em when I drop like Im holdin a baby

Weezy F
The F is for dont forget the baby
And bitch, Ive been hot
But you dont know me from Satan

And if youre Manning up
You better show me youre Peyton
But you pussies aint ballin, no sir
Not lathen?

Bricks get shipped , bricks get cut
Dr. Carter, Nip & Tuck
Yeah, but you could call me Wayne
But now watch me and my chain, gang

Yes, its me bitches
Deuce Bigalow on these he bitches
Flu flow
Flyer then Bird Coupe like a two door

What do you know?
I know the streets bitch
And this is my toilet
And you can eat shit

Got them girls in my bathroom with their asses out
Cause Im fly like flyers they passin out
We mashin out, we young Mula
I got that 12 gauge dont make me 1 2 ya

3 4 5 train bitch, suwoop
If you aint on my train, bitch, cho cho
Like you got my dick in your mizouth
And Ima do me, bitch, with you or without

Shit always right sometimes
And from the top everybody look 19
And Im 2much
The numbers dont lie

And if they stop makin Cadillacs
I swear Im gon die
And if the weed man
Dont have no more onions Ima cry

And if yif was a piff then Id rather drink wine
Shit, Ima take my time
Now, am I crazy or just lazy?
Cause Im tired of ballin darlin

And I roll with my riders like its Harley party
And we roll with them choppers like its a Harley party
We are all dressed in red like its a scarlet party
I was ballin in New Orleans way before the Charlotte Hornets

Im an X man, bitch, I aint talkin McCormick
Put the dirty dishes in the sank
No pork but I get paid like a piggy bank
I spit like backwash, sasquash

No back talk, I act lost
But I bet that money find me
Your jewelry telling jokes
You got them funny diamonds
I got them sunny diamonds

I got them money problems
That Christopher Wallace
Fuck bitches, get money
Young money


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Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Royalty Network


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