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the game - i'm so wavy lyrics
n-ggas pop tags, i pop the four-five
n-ggas got swag, i got the tek-9
n-ggas got cash better run it
only dubs and hundreds, i don’t do fifties, n-gga
and i don’t do 50-year-old jiggas
off that boss black lamborghini, interior soft crack
louis v golf hat, feelin’ like a tiger
i made something out of nothin’ like macgyver
started from an eighth, flipped it to a key
i got ‘em like ay, trappin’ like gucci
plus i get more green than bleu cheese
and i keep a red bandana in my blue jeans
so, n-gga calm your nerves, with all that absurd
far from the curb bullsh-t slash spoken word
you nerd i’m from the same city as venus and serena
so don’t get served i’m so wavy, i don’t need no yacht
ain’t no big pimpin’ on my block
but i’m an underground king, peace to pimp c, yeah
catch me ridin’ through the hood, 20-10 bentley
you got cheese and i k!ll rats
translation: i still trap now do something with that
or respond to this and with them big–ss lips
you got my name in your mouth i hope it tastes like this—ahh
no h0m-, one more time—ahh that’s your promo
and i been hard to the core since i went solo
only man on my horse like my all-black polo
and where i’m ’bout to go is usually a no-no
but i’m loco, got the camel in a chokehold
tryna son me, i’m not from nyc
you can’t even have a child by your destiny
and i ain’t mean to take a shot at b
i blacked out like you did free
‘cause i’m so wavy
too hardcore to be a jay-z
rock more red than weezy baby
please say the baby
been around for years, so b-tch, don’t drake me
and this is not a diss
‘cause i was just out in la with drake, b-tch
and no disrespect to g and hip-hop
but n-gga i’m a g and i’m doing this for hip-hop
and that’s ‘ye’s brother, and ‘ye my n-gga so
i’mma give him some advice: get rid of amber rose!
i’mma tell you how she get down
i was at dig’s afterparty, sippin’ cris
she was whisperin’ to chris brown
i seen chris turn his head like “no!”
then gold digger came on, i pointed like, “hoe!”
but this ain’t ’bout her, this about hov
i’mma chop down the roc and take it to the stove
i apologize to b, ’cause this about hov
i’ma chop down the roc and take it to the stove
“d.o.a.?” no! t-pain stays, old n-gga goes
i’m so wavy too hardcore to be a jay-z
all up in your ear like drake beats
so the n-gga that cut ‘ye couldn’t fade me
you took a shot and the sh-t grazed me
i wet up your block just like the navy
put a label on the sh-t and write “play me”
djs go in, djs go in
cause i’m so..
funk flex, you my n-gga. clue, what up? dj enuff. i know y’all can’t play this sh-t. it’s too wavy. and jay your boy, it’s all good though, y’all still my n-ggas. dj drama, kay slay, lock in. i mean, this sh-t so hot dj whoooooo kid might spin this sh-t at 50’s birthday party. dj skee! khaled know we the best! yo, don cannon, cannon! i know y’all n-ggas locked in
dj chris styles! young legend, nu jerzey devil. dj felli fel! ed deluxe, d man, ride this sh-t straight through big boy neighborhood! kid capri, tell hovi hov leave that young n-gga alone! i mean, dj red alert, what up og? red album comin’ soon
i see you downloadin’ my swag, camelface. blueprint 3 gon’ sell more cigarettes than it do records, n-gga. now i know why the taxes went up on tobacco, motherf-cker
heard ’bout your little fight backstage with kanye, too. i got a million dollars say kanye knocked that n-gga the f-ck out. just tryna make good music, is all he tryna do. sh-t, ‘choo f-ckin’ with ‘ye for? “d.o.a.” n-gga? please. i love 808s and heartbreaks, n-gga love lockdown my sh-t
and tell the world why chris brown wasn’t at the bet awards? this n-gga told bet if they let chris breezy, him and beyonce stayin’ at home, ol’ bitter -ss n-gga
n-gga, dame, man, that’s your man. you and dame was mans and ‘em. you and dame used to be tighter than giraffe p-ssy and sh-t. you know your man having financial problems and sh-t. you number one on the forbes list, n-gga, you make 35 million and sh-t. give a n-gga a milli or sum’. i’d give it to him myself, but sh-t, i was only #13, n-gga, on the list, way down there with jeezy and sh-t, earned 7 million this year so far. but i’m on tour, n-gga, lamborghini tour, live from switzerland, i gets it in. sh-t, i could use 28 more million. but i wouldn’t trade spots with you on the motheruckin’ forbes list for that nose and them lips, n-gga. my n-gga jay
and last but not least, peace to m.i.a., cause the roc about to be mia
no one on the corner got a swagger like you, ’cause no one on the f-ckin’ corner is 42
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