Lil' Wayne - Right Above It
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LIL' WAYNE


Right Above It Lyrics

1 - Drake]
Who else really try'na fuck with Hollywood Cole?
I'm with Marley Gee, bro
Flying Hollygrove chicks to my Hollywood shows
And I want to tell you something that you prolly should know
This that Slumdog Millionaire Bollywood flow
And uhhh
My real friends never hearin' from me
Fake friends write the wrong answers on the mirror for me
That's why I pick and choose, I don't get shit confused
I got a small circle, I'm not with different crews
We walk the same path, but got on different shoes
Live in the same building, but we got different views
I got a couple cars I never get to use
Don't like my women single, I like my chicks in twos
And these days all the girls is down to roll
I hit the strip club and all them bitches find a pole
Plus I been sippin' so this shit is movin' kinda slow
Just tell my girl to tell her friend that it's time to go

Now tell me how you love it
You know you at the top when only Heaven's right above it
We on
It's Young Money, motherfucker
If you ain't runnin' wit it, run from it, motherfucker,
All right

Now somebody show some money in this bitch
And I got my B's with me like some honey in this ditch, ya dig?
I got my gun in my boo purse
And I don't bust back, because I shoot first

Meet me on the fresh train
Yes, I'm in the building, you just on the list of guest names
And all of my riders do not give a fuck, X Games
Guns turn you boys into pussies, sex change

And I smoke till I got chest pains
And you nigga know I rep my game like Jesse James
Women are possessive, and they wanna possess Wayne
I been fly so long I fell asleep on the fuckin' plane
Skinny pants and some Vans
Call me TripleA, get my advance in advance, amen
As the world spin and dance in my hands
Life is a beach, I'm just playin' in the sand
Uh, wake up and smell the pussy
You niggas can't see me, but never overlook me
I'm on the paper trail, it ain't no tellin' where it took me
Yeah, and I ain't a killa, but don't push me

How do he say what's never said?
Beautiful black woman, I bet that bitch look better red
Limpin' off tour 'cause I made more off my second leg
Muhfuckin' Birdman Junior, eleventh grade
Ball on automatic start
I could hand it to Drake or do a quarterback draw
Wildcat offense, check the paw prints
We in the building, you niggas in apartments
Uh, n-now, c'mon, be my blood donor
Flow so nice, she ain't gotta put a rug on her
Do it big, and let the small fall under that
Damn, where you stumbled at?
From where they make gumbo at?
Kane got the fuckin' beat jumpin' like a jumpin' jack
You know me, I get on this bitch and have a heart attack
Hip-hop, I'm the heart of that, nigga, nothin' short of that
President Carter, Young Money Democrat

these lyrics are submitted by Ace Weezy

Songwriter(s): Daniel Johnson, Aubrey Graham, Dwayne Carter
Copyright: Young Money Publishing Inc., Emi Blackwood Music Inc., Artist Publishing Group West, Live Write LLC, Warner-tamerlane Publishing Corp.
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