Lil Wayne feat. Drake – BB King Freestyle Lyrics | Official Audio

Lyrics BB King Freestyle – Lil Wayne feat. Drake

Ayy, the blues is now kickin’ and dinner is three Michelin
I don’t eat red meat, but still got beef sizzlin’
Know that I need discipline, I keep singin’ for all these h*es
They keep listenin’, n**gas love to bro up with the boy
And dap fists, but we are not equivalent, dawg

I been an only child, don’t need siblings
And I’m past them like the times that he’s livin’ in, okay
Man, if you saw what I flew here, you be like He’s sickenin’
If you not runnin’ some top, we not gon’ keep kickin’ it

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No Ceilings 3
Lil Wayne and Drake, let’s go

Ayy, the blues is now kickin’ and dinner is three Michelin
I don’t eat red meat, but still got beef sizzlin’
Know that I need discipline, I keep singin’ for all these h*es
They keep listenin’, n**gas love to bro up with the boy
And dap fists, but we are not equivalent, dawg

I been an only child, don’t need siblings
And I’m past them like the times that he’s livin’ in, okay
Man, if you saw what I flew here, you be like He’s sickenin’
If you not runnin’ some top, we not gon’ keep kickin’ it
Classics I keep scribblin’
Lights in the Universal building just keep flickerin’
Money just keep comin’ in, you would think I’m Irish
The way that this stays doublin’
I could feed a country with the tax that I pay governments
Whatever they’re doin’ with my cash is very troublin’

Okay, February came around, I used to get paid shovelin’
So close, walk dawgs, trust me, I stay hustlin’
When it came to school, there’s no way that I’m A+ in it
So I just dropped out of it, trust me, I’m not proud of it
N**gas get too comfy in they spot, they get knocked out of it
N**gas get a gun just so they can make props out of it
Shawty make a scene in the house, she get locked out of it

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Yeah, you not ’bout to be chillin’ in this b**ch with kicked feet up
I’ma make you bounce out this ho, like Big Freedia
Pete O. used to throw a purple ten on a two liter
First private plane I ever rode was a eight-seater
Before that, I got the bedroom hot with the space heater
On top of that, I didn’t have s**t to my name either, that’s real

But now I’m givin’ house tours ’til it’s back to world tours
Play that Mask Off when they find the real cure
I might not be good for her, but I’m real to her
Got no time for her, but give Richard Millie to her
That’s the only way I know how to express love
My dawgs love sticks and drums like they Questlove
All them jokes about Aubrey they got me messed up, for real

I come with a lot of complications inside me
It’s always people misleadin’ me that’ll try and guide me
Everyone wants to try me, but no ones wants to buy me
Everyone wants to meet me, but no one wants to keep me
Everyone talkin’ lemons when everything is peachy
Everyone got they hands out, and it ain’t to reach me

Everyone got they glass out, let’s drink to Weezy
Every n**ga that stare me down just came to see me
Trappin’ up a lil’ cash cow, that’s steak I’m eatin’
Check deposits, high-risers with extra closets
The sex platonic, I talk intelligence, text Ebonics
The electronic guitars whinin’, that’s just Nirvana
Tommy gun on the counter I call it Mr. Thomas
That’ll keep n**gas honest
I’m dozin’ off in the driver seat ’cause the seat give massages
That’s some more point money
These numbers too steep for commas
I’m eye to eye with n**gas
I can’t help but to see beyond them
Got a two-seater problem
N**gas thinkin’ they cold, I knock the flu-season out them
B**ches forget they h*es, and that’s when Tunechi remind them
I used to f**k with G-models, I’m f**kin’ Gucci designers
I keep it 2-G regardless, I’m gettin’ too deep for divers
Let me resurface, I’m flexin’ on purpose
She especially curvy, bet she be servin’ every purpose

Perfect, I’m better than perfect
I’m sick, I need to see a medical person
Eatin’ all of these rappers with these edible verses
All I gotta be is all that I can possibly
She really, really into me, then suck it all up out of me
I’m proud of me, I don’t know how to be sorry, apologies
You f**kin’ with my mat, you better know some trigonometry
‘Cause I’ma be bustin’, leave your lama bean at your mama feet
I flip the economy like Dominique Dawes
They say I’m trippin’, I guess they wishin’ I finally fall
I don’t need war, I need a b**ch that know I’ma need yours
I’ma need more, n**gas is shifted, they like Honda Accord’s
Fire alarm, ain’t got no ceilings, we climbin’ the walls
Higher than yours, I f**k your b**ch and she die in my arms
Lion has roared, No Ceilings 3 with my mind on the Fall
Holla at your boy

This that BB King
Lil Wayne featuring Drake
Classic s**t
DJ Khaled
No Ceilings 3, Lil Wayne…

➤ Written by DJ Khaled, Drake & Lil Wayne
Album: No Ceilings 3
Produced by Hollywood Cole & DJ Khaled
Lil Wayne | Drake | 2020

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