Gutta, you feel like rappin? *Fo sho!*
Well looka here...I'mma let you do you first, and I MIGHT come behind you...
This SQAD UP right here man...you know what I'm sayin? Holla at dem boys!
It's - Young J-A-Y,
Gutta Gutta fuck anotha busta tryin' knock my hustle!
I hit the strip ey'day I got the hustle cluckas,
I keep that nina in my clutch so I can touch it, fucka!
A murdera - catch Gutta Gutta in the kitchen with a birdera,
snitch niggas can't sell us shit, we heard o' ya,
bitch muhfuckas poppin' shit, we murder ya! *Biatch!*
Run up in ya crib snack up ya kid then murk yo Pa,
you don't know what I do to ya! *Uh uh*
Leave ya fuckin mother cryin at ya funeral - faggot ass nigga!
I pull that gat out niggas - jump it rabbit ass nigga!
The SQAD is takin ova, shit you betta aks nigga!
It's Young Money till I'm R.I.P.,
fuckin bitches gettin money, shit that's all I see - P!
Cause we thuugin'- bussin in the club and - middle fingas up,
we hollerin SQAD UP nigga! *SQAAAD UP!*
You got a problem - tell 'em meat me by mine,
You know the heat be by my nuts nigga,
man we can knuckle up in a place, or buss up the whole place, betta buckle up
befo I have yo Mami standin ova ya cold face, ready to puck her up!
I'm so straight - I got my hustle UP!
I do this shit for them niggas with the zip-lock bags, just keep it bundled up!
I see you daddy - hit my numba up!
I tell yo people get with my people and we could holla over lunch,
man how you want it - dope, blow or what?
I giva a lady a kiss - a bitch a smack - a hoe nut,
then get that hoe to Dizzy, Gutta, Yo and Nut!
I give a hater a elbow to the gut,
I'm so agressive, there ain't a lesson I haven't been learned,
so nigga you can't tell me shit!
I knew to much for school - you can't feel me bitch!
I know I needed a Two - you need a helmet slick!
Because I'm going at ya head with the 'fo banga,
they gon' start callin you no-brainer!
And please don't bring her if she is a no-brainer,
and you'ont need a brainer - know I'm Weezy Baby!
Come back Gutta - holla atcha boy!
*What up Gutta?*
Look - it's Young Money you bitch you! *ya bitch you!*
When we bang - we make sho' that we hit you!
It's young J. Gutta muhfuckin slick dude!
Skinny red dude!
Nigga plays and he spray it in the head dude!
Give me way cause I strive with them hood - strive!
Puffin dro' - stay hi off that good right?
And I ride for the SQAD - understood right?
So respect - I give ya a bad death - say goodbye to that good life!
*He was a good nigga! Hoh shit...*
You see normally I wouldn't do this - but I'm gon' keep the party goin'!
The hottest Carter next to Shawn - the hottest flow next to homie,
I give my highest respects to homie - What's good Hov' Baby? Holla atcha homie!
I holds it down for my territory,
I (???) the glory of the fellas neva get to know this,
and when I jet through the 'jects - you can bet - all the niggas and chicks - gon' take flix,
cause they never seen the machine I lean in,
I mean straight sick - the boy so clean and,
all the lil' children up to chase my great whip!
I'm talkin bout the great Weezy Baby - splendid!
Heart-broken in a lotta spots - never mended!
I bought coke - opened up a spot - felt relentless,
I was only twelve but the money made me twenty,
now it's only right for me to ride around on twenties,
it's only life to ride around with the semi,
get outta bounce, I won't blow the whistle - I'mma blow the pistol - ya hear me?
Quit all the fouled play out - or I spray out,
ya'll rookies need to be like me - I'm fundamental like Timmy,
but I can get flagrant like Kenyon!
I cannot'a hear any opinions bout my image,
man I'm the same playa from the finals to a scrimmage,
I put the AK up to ya spinal and just whip it,
it kinda burn, don't it sissy?
You know the kid just - pimpin - thuggin,
bandanered up like a old hippie - or sumtin,
canons up - I hope you start trippin - I love it!
I see no public - it's just you and your snakes and me and some niggas that love me!
See you could just hate - but me and these niggas is grubbin!
We at supper - it's mm-mm good fucka!
You try 'n touch it - it's boom-boom-brr-blucka!
You try 'n block us - you bette be Chris Tucker!
Cause this summer we gon' blow like dick-suckas!
And if ya flitch blitch catch a blow to ya dick-suckas...nicca!
You hear that clinch-clinch I lock the (???) to this shit, cussin'!
Man let me chill I'm to cold for this shit cussin'...
Yes Sir - this ya boy Weezy Baby man, we doin this,
Wayne here - I see you!
Fe - I see you!
Louie Baby - I see you!
Gutta Gutta! We right here man...whutsup?
Ce Ce Baby - I ain't forget you!
Raj Smoove man! We gon' make it happen man - I promise to God - swear-ta-God!
Fuck ya'll man...