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    Yea... yea

    Yes

    Ima call this one... real rap

    Cause this rap is real... ya know?

    I hope you aint too tired to cry
    And i hope you know you aint never to live to die

    Listen...
    I grew up where them people called them people on us
    Think we slingin, but we just got beepers on us
    Grindin all day like we got sleep insomnia
    Livin like the videos write a treatment on us
    Stuck in the hood like they poured semen on us
    Ghetto birds still shittin on us, government still quittin on us
    Lost a few homies and the grief still sittin on us
    So we got the names written on us, white folks still spittin on us
    And them bitch ass police k-9's teeth still grittin on us
    But we smoke, ashes still gettin on us
    Older bitches still hittin on us
    I remember well, beezy roll the l
    Beezy aint here... wheres beezy at?... beezy got killed
    And that was my nigga, i go way back for my nigga
    But i know thats how it happend my nigga,
    Shit is much deeper than this rappin my nigga
    But now they all rappin my niggas, so now i must make it happen
    So ima play the captain, sail boat flappin my nigga
    No fingers im snappin, happy for my nigga lil taggers
    Cause even tho we couldnt, the lord saved him
    Last time we seen him was when katrina hated
    Found his body like a month later, rest in peace boy
    He was a east boy, and so was wesy wes he was a good nigga, so i know he blessed
    And his daughter is a princess, this shit is harder than a bench press
    But ima keep goin, and i swear i got a lump in my throat
    But ima keep on pumpin the flow,
    So if i cry dont stop the beat, i feel like my heart just stopped the beat
    My nigga lil derek is quick to cop a key, either that or load the gat and go pop a g
    And because of that hes just a name in a rhyme of mine
    I pray his family and his mama is fine
    So much shit just sit on this mind of mine
    I think about it all the time
    I drink about it all the time
    I smoke back to back
    Cause if my thoughts got to me id be in this rap
    Or id be in the can, thank god i had dreams of being the man
    Yea and fuck a man with a badge cause he aint shit to a man on the edge
    The five o killed naughty good boy dead
    Man you woulda thought they killed corn bread
    Shot em up face down on the lawn
    Not to mention with his handcuffs on
    Not to mention they had plain clothes on
    And the complain goes on
    But no body do nothin bout it
    The jail house and the morgue is too fuckin crowded
    And haters at an all time high
    Everybody got their hatas like a fuckin ipod
    Shit and they tried to burn my phantom up, but i got my gun license
    I got my hammers up, im ready to shoot like a camera
    Stay still mothafucka ima have to write my will this summer
    Cause if they dont kill me, ima kill this summer
    Yea
    And you can put that on my late father or my late grandmother
    Ms. mercedes carter
    Or my grandfather larry bosock the old man hustle till his heart stopped
    And all i know of my real pops is that he had money
    No bank account, that brown paper bag money
    Yea he might hit me off wit a little brag money
    But the nigga still wouldnt be a dad for me
    But look how i turned out i hope he glad for me
    But thats why when i see him i act mad funny cause hes a joke to me
    Dont message, dont call, dont talk to me
    Its just me and my moma how its suppose to be
    And i make sure she paid like she wrote for me
    And i know she gets all hope for me
    And i dont ever want to see her mope for me
    Hopefully but truthfully there is a day thats due for me
    But we gone pray that its as far as the future sees
    Your listenin to the future weezy f. baby
    Amen

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    Todas as letras de Lil Wayne

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