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Lil Wayne

Genres: Hip-Hop

Believe That Lyrics - Lil Wayne

Push Impalas and Caprice's 

(Believe that daddy) 

Starch flat no creases 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got that work, you a D boy 

(Believe that daddy) 

You a H O T boy 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Do ya Bentley got them hoes 

(Believe that daddy) 

That's, that weed smell in yo clothes 

(Believe that daddy) 

Bet a hundred, shoot a hundred 

(Believe that daddy) 

It's my block, I run it 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

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Got them 20's on ya ride 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got the gator inside 

(Believe that daddy) 

Fine bitch, bow-leg 

(Believe that daddy) 

And she go both ways 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Slugged up in the front 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got a trunk full of bump 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got cribs, cars, bikes, dykes 

(Believe that daddy) 

'Cause that's what hoes like 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Photos 

 

Now I do it for the ladies, do it for the ladies 

I do 'cause, I wanna push a cat-eye Mercedes 

I do it for my dudes, do it for my dudes 

All the niggas on the block that got that work to move 

 

It's Weezy baby, young and from the Dirty South 

Get up your dope, I'm putting birdies out 

Like thirty in my mouth, so I can say 

Fuck you bitch you still ain't got a dirty mouth 

 

The hood still ain't got over the drout 

So you should sleep on your roof, just to watch over ya house 

Nigga we tymin', the cost of my watch over ya house 

I'm a boss man, I watch over the South 

 

Jazze Pha, let's hop in the Lammy 

(Lamborghini) 

Stop by Sammy, chill in the hood, you good, you family 

My boys like to pull them blammies, and big pimp 

Mami suck dick 'til she pull your hammy, homey 

 

You know we only, keepin' it gangsta 

Deep in the Range, 17 in the chamber 

All I need is my banger, nigga it's Weezy 

This shit is over somebody cue me 

 

Push Impalas and Caprice's 

(Believe that daddy) 

Starch flat no creases 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got that work, you a D boy 

(Believe that daddy) 

You a H O T boy 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Do ya Bentley got them hoes 

(Believe that daddy) 

That's, that weed smell in yo clothes 

(Believe that daddy) 

Bet a hundred, shoot a hundred 

(Believe that daddy) 

It's my block, I run it 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Got them 20's on ya ride 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got the gator inside 

(Believe that daddy) 

Fine bitch, bow-leg 

(Believe that daddy) 

And she go both ways 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Slugged up in the front 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got a trunk full of bump 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got cribs, cars, bikes, dykes 

(Believe that daddy) 

'Cause that's what hoes like 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Now I do it for the ladies, do it for the ladies 

I do 'cause, I wanna push a cat-eye Mercedes 

I do it for my dudes, do it for my dudes 

All the niggas on the block that got that work to move 

 

You don't wanna play wit me, I touch you man 

Lose ya man in a tussle, but y'all don't see me 

Y'all can't hear me, this a def jam, call me Russell, man 

I played on Martin, call me hustle, man 

 

And now y'all know I'm the yee-yo muscle, man 

But on the under, I got that wonder, to stop that thunder 

That rumble in the side of ya stomach, piled on water 

How do you want it, come through in a Coupe powder blue or 

 

High with water, how do you want it man 

Ay, I towed a lot of tullies dun, I den broke a lot of hoopties dun 

I den drove a lot of QP's from, here and there on the road 

For the nigga gotta move his son, and I show you how to do this son 

That's, that boy Weezy We, CMB, bitach, and ya stunned 

 

Push Impalas and Caprice's 

(Believe that daddy) 

Starch flat no creases 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got that work, you a D boy 

(Believe that daddy) 

You a H O T boy 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Do ya Bentley got them hoes 

(Believe that daddy) 

That's, that weed smell in yo clothes 

(Believe that daddy) 

Bet a hundred, shoot a hundred 

(Believe that daddy) 

It's my block, I run it 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Got them 20's on ya ride 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got the gator inside 

(Believe that daddy) 

Fine bitch, bow-leg 

(Believe that daddy) 

And she go both ways 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Slugged up in the front 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got a trunk full of bump 

(Believe that daddy) 

Got cribs, cars, bikes, dykes 

(Believe that daddy) 

'Cause that's what hoes like 

(Believe that daddy) 

 

Now I do it for the ladies, do it for the ladies 

I do 'cause, I wanna push a cat-eye Mercedes 

I do it for my dudes, do it for my dudes 

All the niggas on the block that got that work to move 

Writer: , ,

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