Lil Wayne - Earthquake lyrics

(Speak to them Jazze) [Chorus] I (Yea fly guy) I'm way more fly than you (That's right) I'll take your dime from you (That's right) Now she want to spend all night with me (She want to wake up with Weezy-F baby) Let me be the one that you throw it to, baby (Throw it back ma, throw it back, throw it back, throw it back ma) I'd like to spend the rest of my night with you (Yea so how bout you, so how bout you) I'll take your b**h give her back, take your b**h again Because you throw a five I pitch a ten Now she want to get inside of my sixty six She sees my wrist blue and yellow like Michigan She say she love her man she misses him But nobody do it better than her distance dick (me) I'm her long distance pimp When I land my b**hes want for me on the strip (yup) And I don't lie I confess, I'm the one who turn that orange vest to a dress Gotta dress to impress though, Gotta stay clean, plus momma in a Lex four She with me, what you expect, I live to be fly to d**h It's the bird man Jr. sincerely yours When it rains it pours, when it rains it who*es [Chorus] Now why you want to go do that Like I can't see through that Tattoo right there like I can't view that Girl what that say, Girl what who that Bet he was lame, bet he ain't Lil' Wayne (nop) Cause I'm way more flyer Have you hanging round a bunch of yeyo buyers (no),(no) And not a day go by us, We don't get higher than the telephone wires Cut your telephone off we ridin' Where phones don't roam they don't even come on You're far from home so leave it alone You creeping with the king of the throne You sleepin' in a tee and a thong With your hair in a pony I ain't got no blinds We can stare at the morning (yup) But I can't be there all morning I'm a pimp, baby girl, I'm going, going, gone [Chorus] I'm sorry I was grooving Gotta love that laid back Mannie Fresh music But let's get back to what we was doing Laid back in that black on Pat Ewing's That's thirty three V tires, he fire These streets ain't papaya ma You gotta keep heat on your side Two must, so I'm a get three more and cop you one Wait, naw hun cause you ain't exempt If your a** ever trip I'll give you a clip (yea) But I love the way your jeans s** in your hip And you walk kinda mean how you strut with a dip And you talk kinda clean and you lick your lips But I can't fall for you cause I stick to the script (yup) I said I stick to my grip, I stick to my money, That's life to me Sorry honey Jazze [Chorus] So how bout you, yea So how bout you? See what I'm talking bout sweet heart You ain't even gotta have John Madden You ain't gotta have Dick Vitale, You ain't gotta Lee Carsole You ain't gotta have Stuart Scott, You ain't gotta have Linda Cohn Know what I'm talking bout, You ain't gotta have the staff of E-S-P-N You ain't gotta have ABC staff just to talk sports baby Cause I got game sweetheart Just f** with the boy and I'll get you a jersey What you want me to put on the back Daddy's little that's right, See what I'm talking bout I can't give you the game But I can show the game And you can see what you see And peek how you peek and get what you get Know what I'm talking bout Weezy