Lil` Wayne Look At Me (ost Triple X (xxx)) Lyrics

Look At Me (ost Triple X (xxx)) Lyrics

[Hook]

 Bright thing on my hand saying (Look at me)

 I got your girl doing a handstand (Look at me)

 Cop them 28-inch Birdman's (Check out me)

 Y'all dues money to ya

 Bright thing on my hand saying (Look at me)

 I got your girl doing a handstand (Look at me)

 Cop them 28-inch Birdman's (Check out me)

 Big thighs with brown-eyes

 

 [Verse 1]

 It's Lil Weezy for real

 Only Cash Money Hot Boy that stood still

 I got a good deal

 I'm from a trill hood

 I smoke real good

 Slide on them skinnies in the bike with an ill hood

 Pipes, rally stripes and fog lights

 T-shirt white, three stripes with all ice

 What that boy name

 Birdman junior, huh

 Fool was smile but five is so wild

 I can smoke a green mile

 Got a chrome need a Rolls shined up for you baby

 Bling-blow, I rock a throwback Jordan 23

 Rolling on hot 23's

 Tote a big glock 23

 You're looking at the seventeen ward of New Orleans

 My block living me

 I want you to look hard at some easy money

 Stop playing this is Weezy company

 Uh-huh

 

 [Hook]

 

 [Verse 2]

 I'm the son of Cash Money

 The fodd of the squad

 And Baby bout to buy me a house in the sky

 Cuz I'm so fly

 When my feet touch the ground sometimes I gotta ask myself why

 Coupe kinda wide but I move sorta quick

 Looking for my roof where it went

 Mink on the floor big shoes on the bed

 Windows are the tint more wood than a bench

 Working in the hood more green than the Grinch

 Please don't play cuz I'm connected like Sprint

 Ladies on the tray popping up the back-end

 Peppermint leather with a feather in my brim

 It's Lil Weezy

 Sucking on my wrist real breezy

 And this is what I say when you see me

 Look, and leave your broad at home she get took

 Cuz I'm a player hold the game by the book

 

 [Hook]

 

 [Verse 3]

 Some call me Weezy

 But hoes holla look at Lil Wayne

 In that booger-green lay like should've been Mace

 Sweet, do speak when I should've put trays

 Forget it I'ma slam it on bubba-bubba-blaze

 So move over what you say shortie

 We could do rent pussy

 Normally I wouldn't but beating through the Texas

 And beating went to the A

 Eat with desert fey

 But yeah I'm on my way

 Cuz I know he got that hay

 Hey little mami

 You a ghetto fire tin

 You come to my post on the island

 Come on that chronic

 He-he empty vodka bottles

 I be high he be drunk that my roll model

 I rolls by you with my seat reclining

 When I stop rims don't keep spinning they keep shining

 Money don't stop keep spinning and keep grinding

 Cash Money what you hollering, huh

 

 [Hook]