Текст песни What You Sayin - DJ E-Feezy feat. Lil Wayne
Hit
you
with
no
delaying
so
what
you
sayin'
yo
Niggas
ain't
paying
so
I
just
been
laying
low
I'm
all
about
famo
like
Marlin
Brando
My
bitch
go
commando,
I'm
in
command
though
I
hit
you
with
ammo,
quick
as
a
Lambo
I
play
with
her
pussy
hole
like
flipping
channels
And
my
bitches
is
too
live
like
Luther
Campbell
And
I'm
spitting
this
shit
though
like
I
chew
tobacco
Shimmy
shimmy
ya
shimmy
yay
I'ma
kick
a
nigga
in
his
mouth,
MMA
I'ma
stick
a
semi
in
his
mouth,
kissy
face
I'ma
lose
the
weight
in
the
drought,
Ricki
Lake
I'ma
get
the
white
and
put
it
out,
Em
& Dre
I'ma
fuck
her
sisters
and
her
mom,
Kim
& Ye
They
respect
all
my
artistry
like
Hemingway
And
they
respect
all
of
my
martians,
that's
why
they
give
me
space
Muthafucka
now
you
see
what's
up
in
my
hand
so
what
you
sayin
woe?
Cause
I
put
yo
fuckin'
brains
all
on
the
dashboard
You
not
in
my
fuckin'
lane
you
on
the
crash
course
And
if
you
feelin'
froggy
leap,
I'm
kidnapping
yo
tadpoles
I
can't
remember
the
bitch
name
I
fucked
after
my
last
show
When
I
say
my
cash
low,
I'm
just
telling
a
bad
joke
Long
hair,
don't
care,
no
shirt
like
Fabio
Little
nigga
dreadlocks
with
a
dick
with
an
afro
woo,
hah!
I
got
you
all
in
check
I
make
her
ooh
ah
and
now
she
on
my
breath
I'm
with
my
Goombah,
we
ridin'
on
your
set
And
we
can
shoot
out
'till
it's
quiet
on
the
set
Boo
ya
like
Stu
Scott
and
peace
up
where
he
rest
Bitch
I'm
groundbreaking
and
I'm
taking
baby
steps
I'm
about
to
bust
a
rhyme,
nod
yo
head
and
break
ya
neck
I'ma
kill
these
motherfuckas,
you
ain't
dead,
fake
ya
death
I
ain't
playing,
I'ma
hit
you
with
no
delaying
and
I
ain't
paying
ho
I
come
through
me
and
my
woes
looking
like
Camp
Lo
This
is
it,
what?
Luchini
falling
from
the
sky
Let's
get
rich
what?
Boy,
I
been
rich
since
95'
where
you
been
boy?
Money
talks
and
I'm
about
to
send
a
invoice
to
them
boys
Yeah
I'm
tired
of
this
bullshit,
I'm
wilding,
I'm
too
lit
I
aim
at
yo
toothpick,
leave
yo
brains
in
yo
boo
tits
Yeah,
I'm
tied
up
with
feds,
put
some
guap
on
yo
head
Now
they
can't
find
your
body,
like
the
sock
in
the
bed
This
is
it,
boy,
you
done
dug
yourself
a
hole
That's
a
pit,
boy,
that's
where
I
shit,
boy
Uh,
type
of
a
nigga
that'll
slap
you
with
the
tooley-o
It
ain't
about
what
you
smoke,
it's
about
who
you
smoke
My
homeboy
Hoody,
yo,
he
real
moody,
yo
I
tell
him
no
bullet
folks,
he
still
do
it
tho'
They
give
you
a
funeral,
you
won't
be
viewable
When
Tunechi
come
thru'
the
door,
them
hoes
get
super
soaked
Now
do
you
really
wanna
party
with
me?
Let
me
sees
whatcha
got
fo'
me
Aye,
do
you
really
wanna
party
with
me?
In
Squad
we
trust!
Puffin'
on
that
stuff,
eyes
low
than
Connie
Chung
They
don't
fuck
with
us
'cause
they
know
that
we
not
the
ones
Boy,
we
got
them
guns,
scare
the
holy
shit
out
the
nuns
Yo,
it's
young
money,
my
nigga,
you
know
we
bout
to
bust
And
everybody
armed,
more
armed
than
Octopus
Write
my
name
on
my
cups,
so
nigga
know
not
to
touch
Every
time
I
bust
a
rhyme,
another
one
bites
the
dust,
Tunechi!
Mula
Busta,
fuck
with
me!
1 Pocket Full of Money
2 What You Sayin
3 I'll Be There
4 Da Streets Pt. 2
5 We Winning (Dade County Remix)
6 No Sleep
7 Everywhere I Go
8 For The Fame
9 On And On
10 Cash Out
11 Check
12 Ima Do Me
13 S.Y.U.
14 Old Girl
15 Spotlight
16 Love to the Beat
17 G Paid
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