Artist: Lil Wayne f/ Flow, Raw Dizzy, Thugga Album: Sorry 4 the Wait Song: Inkredible Remix Freestyle Typed by: AZ Lyrics [Thugga] I pop some Percocets Then I pop some Xanax Sitting back, strapped, cocked Plotting on your man next Jack a nigga for his work And stretch it like some Spandex He hesitate, I spray and leave him Like a Tampex ’Äì oops, I meant a Tampax Bitch, I keep that anthrax I can get your man wacked, for a couple Tan packs Shoot off your Sedan lap Nigga, I demand stacks I ain't playing, black Bitch, I be spraying Macks All type of guns with accessories I'm like Cosby for the bills I need mills like Stephanie Pussy niggaz can't stand next to me I've got dope and ecstasy Keep em floating like both of the levees breached 80s baby but my soul from the 70s Worldwide game like a travelled the 7 seas Niggaz ain't OG, scary lil bitch, please Tune ate pussy in the can.. Frisky [Raw Dizzy] I got 10 up on my pinky ring and 20 on my bracelet Now these niggaz kissing ass, but they can't say shit I'm just here to separate the real from the fake shit I told you, I was coming n I'm sorry for the wait I gotta get this money Mane, it's right here in my face I got the Devil on my back I don't wanna be up in that place My mom tell me to be safe I just keep running in these streets I can't stop fuckin with these hoes But I say I'm just doing me Bitch, I'm a 9th Ward nigga Mason street, D&G That Flordia right by the D they need to free my nigga B I ain't the type of person to be running from no beef Those fucking guns are gonna be bursting Somebody knocked off their feet So watch your fucking mouth Before you end up on that floor and stop Acting like you're hard cause You know you've been a ho I told you out the gate I'm not the fake I gotta say it, please excuse Almost forgot I'm all Dizzy by the way [Flow] Money over bitches, bitch I'm coming for the check Vampire living, bitch I'm coming for your neck Raw! I'm sharp, my swagger like an X I'm a motherfucking monster I rap like I'm possessed Call me Mr. Still Smoking, smoke it in a paper The game is a bitch, hold her down and rape her Yes I am a Blood but I be wylin' with my skaters We probably smoking flavors bumping Tyler the Creator I'm a Eastside native, all my niggaz Soo Woopin' They went crazy when they heard I had a song With Lil Tunechi, bitch! Get some ice and pour my Sprite And light my bong and my doobies Fuck your producer I'm the one that be producing my music I'm a hippie surrounded by a lot of pot Pot is in me Drop ya like an Otterbox Sleeping on me like I'm rapping with a blanket Kill a nigga have him thinking that he planking [Lil Wayne] All-red plaid shirt, skinny ass jeans on Them goons at your front door, choppers out: "ding dong!" Didn't I change the game and put my motherfucking team on Now let my chopper ring "Baka!" is my ringtone Fuck you ho-ass niggaz, I get money and get over hoes We hold court with them heaters "Pop!" case open/closed Looking for a bitch to hop up on my totem pole And my blunt be stupid-fat, double-stuffed ’Äì Oreos I get loaded til I motherfucking overload Been rapping, flows still tight like aerobic's clothes Ask them bitches, I told em hoes They back it up like Sunnydrive and Bronx Tale Cologero Lighter in my pocket, light the sky rocket Pull em hammers out and run them nigga's like Stocktons Got some niggaz from my city Thugga, Dizzy, Flow Sorry 4 the Wait, coming soon, Carter IV, beyotch!