Friday, April 12, 2013

"I'm Good (Terrorists)" – Lil Wayne feat. Meek Mill. Produced by Unknown.

" appears to be a left-over track that should have made the I'm Not A Human Being II album but perhaps the artist left-off a blazing track on purpose — bonus/hidden tracks are meant to appease their loyal, underground fans and tend to transform into a cult classic — or perhaps I'm looking deeper into the matter? Whatever the case may be, the song title is only fitting because this YMCMB meets MMG collabo is the bomb (sorry)..." KONGFUSION©

"I'm Good (Terrorists)" - Lil Wayne feat. Meek Mill. Produced by Unknown.

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]

I'm so fucking awesome - my marbles, I lost 'em
I'm taking everything - everything but precaution
Your bitches wanna call us and text us like Austin
Pussy make me hard, pussy niggas make me nauseous
I've been on my feet since the day I started walking
Bitch, I think I'm MC Hammer, put the nail in the coffin
Sell coke in a drought, sell pussy at an auction
Bullets got a nigga running fast enough to race horses
Around here you sniff these lines, you don't cross 'em
Kill your ass and leave you behind like an orphan
I swear it happens all the time, very often
Still getting baseball money; Barry Larkin
Around here we play for keeps, yeah, we eating, but we starving
I get me a little money, try to spread it margarine
I'm flyer than a motherfucker, all my flights chartered
Green kush, red flag, black car, white lawyer, I'm good

[Verse 2: Meek Mill]

I say I go into my beastmode - rapping niggas, I eat those
I tell a bitch take a deep breath then bend them knees like a freethrow
I don't want me no good girl, I fell in love with these freak hoes
In my bedroom I make a movie, it's starring me with that Lee Rose
Cause I ball hard like D-Rose, my stash on closet
Racks in my pocket, these racks I deposit
Got racks on my conscience, money on my mind
I got shooters on my team, they got bodies on their nine
Look at that bad bitch right there, see that body on that dime
I ain't swimming in no ho, you know I'm probably on that grind
All these niggas hating on me, me, but I ain't on theat time, time
Cause I be in the back, nigga, and I ain't talking about swine
I'm talking 62 West, they say a nigga too fresh
You a rat, your homie singing, you should do a duet
Shawty say she loving my swag, I make that pussy too wet
You niggas banned, and my hoes and I'm like why they'd do that? Go

[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]

Uhm, I don't have a conscience, all my friends are monsters
They visit me so constant and talk to me about nonsense
Like stabbing you and then watching you fight for your life like you boxing
Bitch, deuce deuce, I smoke that OG killer Bobby Johnson
I'll olly over that bitch head, it's Hollygrove til I'm fucking dead
I did a bid for that toast, so fuck with me I'll treat you like butterbread
But I still go hard with no regard, Earth ain't shit, bitch, go to Mars
Leave a nigger dead in the gutter
I'll just beat him with a bloody ass bowlingball
I'm fresh as hand sanitizer, don't hate the game, just analyze it
Two xanax', I'm fantasizing about fat bitches' panty sizes
Take a bullet to the chest, be a man about it
Stop acting like a little bitch nigga, most of y'all niggas is bitch niggas
I got a tiger in the basement, Big Tigger
My hair long, my dick bigger
My hair long, my dick bigger
My hair long, my dick bigger
My money longer, my weed stronger
I feed hunger, I no longer get my weed from Fee
I pull that freedom of my waist, now watch me let freedom ring, ding

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