Songtext zu 'Get Smoked (feat. Lil Mouse)' von Lil Wayne

[Hook]
09, we tote; my niggas ain't no joke
And we keep them blows, so please don't get smoked
Fuck around with them fuck-arounds, and you fuck around and get smoked
Fuck around with them fuck-arounds, and you fuck around and get smoked

[Verse 1]
I'm rollin', all my niggas rollin'
Keep that fucking red bandana: Hulk Hogan
I'm cuttin' up like scissors, coming down hard like blizzards
I'm gettin head while givin' head, that's a head-on collision
I'm on a pain pill, I keep this shit trill
These niggas ain't for real, like a fire drill
Yo ho on my back like a fuckin' fifth wheel
That bitch make her pussy open and close like fish gils
I put all my niggas on, but some of those niggas gone
Them niggas callin' my phone, leave me alone
I'm lightin' up that strong, then pass it to my bro
Numbers don't lie: except 5-0
Different colored TruckFit shirts, you niggas put on yo skirts
If I die off these percs, put a bad bitch in my hearse
My hoes lift up they shirts, I'm high as Captain Kirk
If we run out of work, we Rob, like Burke

[Hook] [2X]
09, we tote; my niggas ain't no joke
And we keep them blows, so please don't get smoked
Fuck around with them fuck-arounds, and you fuck around and get smoked
Fuck around with them fuck-arounds, and you fuck around and get smoked

Corlay RIP him, Darnell RIP him
If you disrespect them, then you gone meet them
My niggas rollin 4-seata; that bitch going, she a eater
She was a good girl, I turned her to a eater
Hit squad move bugband, young nigga on freeband
30 clip and them hollow tips make him do the running man
That Glock 40 I’m thumpin man; I'm rolling with my hitters
I'll send my hitters out to go get you
Hella bands, hella bands, hit the club throwing hella bands
Heavy load, throwing hella bands, in the club doing the money dance
Hella bands, hella bands, hit the club throwing hella bands
Heavy load, throwing hella bands, in the club doing the money dance
Niggas talking shit in the club, he better watch his self
Melly got the 30 on his hip, he gone need some help
I'm a gangster, nigga, and I could do this shit my fucking self
Pistol to his melon; it ain't gone be nothing left

[Hook] [2X]
09, we tote; my niggas ain't no joke
And we keep them blows, so please don't get smoked
Fuck around with them fuck-arounds, and you fuck around and get smoked
Fuck around with them fuck-arounds, and you fuck around and get smoked

[Verse 2]
Running round with my gangstas, running up on these yellow hoes
Everybody wanna fuck my bitch, her pussy lips like heaven doors
It's pussy, money, and kush, skateboards and shroom
These niggas think they the shit, these niggas perfume
Hollygrove, so Hollygrove, all I know is Hollygrove
I'm sick with it, I've been diagnosed
We don't cut the coke, that's Diet Coke
These niggas broke, I'm paid in full
Blood gang, Red Bull
My tongue like a surfboard, and her pussy like a wave pool
Tunechi

[Hook] [2X]
09, we tote; my niggas ain't no joke
And we keep them blows, so please don't get smoked
Fuck around with them fuck-arounds, and you fuck around and get smoked
Fuck around with them fuck-arounds, and you fuck around and get smoked