Lil B - Grove Street Party lyrics

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne] I got a whole lotta money, pop that p**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 a** 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 Rose Swagger on steroids: Canseco, Jose No Limit Records: We so 'bout it 'bout it I'm higher than a b**h, feel like I climbed a f**ing mountain Illest n***a 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 k** the witnesses cause Birdman car red Hollygrove Monster, Eagle Street creature Come to your funeral, k** everybody but the preacher I live in Miami, n***a, 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**h n***as 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**ers 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**h 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**h cause I like the finer things f** with me slime No brain on the whip, I've got nothing in mind Carter 4, they ain't f**ing 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**h what's up? Young Based God, came in with the ballers Iced out chain, b**h, I'm rich off that same sh** Sixty-five hoes on my dick, b**h, it's Christmas Straight Westside, Bay Area b**h, I'll grave em Pretty boy sh**, Based God finna hang em Armed like a cradle and you n***as can't stop me Shouts out to Mack Maine getting rich and co*ky b**h it's still West side, shouts out to Weezy Young Based God with that 55 heater 187 b**h, I pull a 2-11 b**h With that tiny shirt mane and the tiny pants mane I'm on Based World and I f** with, Cash Money n***as Don't understand, Maine, they gang like a chain Woo woo! Swag, b**h, 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-a** n***a This that stuntin' music; b**h, I just do's it It's Lil B and I'll muthaf**in prove it