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Grove St. Party

by Raw Dizzy

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
I got a whole lotta money, pop that pus*y for me
My homie got that yopper, he'll bang it at a copper
Ay, gangsta party, gangsta party, gangsta party!
Stove on my waist, cook your ass up, gourmet
All-black .44, do you want foreplay?
I'm going at your face like Oil of Olay
No champagne, but you know my flag Rosé
Swagger on steroids: Canseco, Jose
No Limit Records: we so 'bout it 'bout it
I'm higher than a b*tch, feel like I climbed a f*cking mountain
Illest n*gga you know, my accountant's still counting
Shot hit him a minute ago but his body's still bouncing
Beam on the hammer, beam on your forehead
Gotta kill the witnesses 'cause Birdman car red
Hollygrove Monster, Eagle Street creature
Come to your funeral, kill everybody but the preacher
I live in Miami, n*gga, I'll South Beach ya
Robin Leach, uh, that's how we ballin'
You know that I'm loaded, but please don't think its sweeter
Beat one of you b*tch n*ggas up like John Cena
Them hoes on Young Money, tell them hoes we coming
Boy, we get it popping, we ain't saving hoes, we swapping
Yeah, gangsta party, gangsta party, gangsta party!
Big head Desert Eagle, call it "shotty"
How'd you get that money? Stunna taught me that
That Xan took me under, patron brought me back
I'm leaning on you muthaf*ckers like I caught a flat
And that Glock snap back like an old Starter hat
What the lick read? I'm in the big league
I'm a breath of fresh air "Let the b*tch breathe!"
I'm trying to chillax but I had to do it, dev
I'm at the funeral like "I had to do it, rev!"
Mack you my big brother, I split a wig for you
Put that on their repeat until they bury me
Moment of clarity: yeah, that's my diamond game
I keep a fine b*tch 'cause I like the finer things
f*ck with me slime
No brain on the whip, I've got nothing in mind
Carter 4, they ain't f*cking with mine
I drop that Sorry 4 the Wait to make up for the time

[Verse 2: Lil B]
Yeah I do my thang, b*tch what's up?
Young Based
God, came in with the ballers
Iced out chain, b*tch, I'm rich off that same sh*t
Sixty-five hoes on my di*k, b*tch, it's Christmas
Straight Westside, Bay Area b*tch, I'll grave em
Pretty boy sh*t, Based God finna hang em
Armed like a cradle and you n*ggas can't stop me
Shouts out to Mack Maine getting rich and c*cky
b*tch it's still West side, shouts out to Weezy
Young Based
God with that 55 heater
187 b*tch, I pull a 2-11 b*tch
With that tiny shirt mane and the tiny pants mane
I'm on Based
World and I f*ck with, Cash Money n*ggas
Don't understand, Maine, they gang like a chain
Woo woo! Swag, b*tch, Brang-dang-dang-dang
Off the top, I'm a Wolfpack hitter
Man, my life just a painting and I paint you a picture, mane
Think about it: a young paid-ass n*gga
This that stuntin' music; b*tch, I just do's it
It's Lil B and I'll muthaf*ckin prove it