No Other Lyrics - Get 'em - Lil Wayne

Yeah, straight up D-Boy! Seventeenth ward! 

Miss Katrina turned my city to a seashore 

I keep going for them Cohen like Lyor 

They gon' either respect me or: E.R 

Burnin' them bitches like a ci-gar 

Punk, put a hump in your back, they called it Igor! 

War? This shit is hard, any yard where we are 

We call that cocaine rice, I got that Condoleezza! 

Huh? You fuck with me chump, I rock your teacup 

I say before you spend a dollar boy, put up the re-up 

Yep! Get up cause we up, foot up and knee up 

In the game, put up and shut up, I hit your head up 

Or go bang; the Birdgang and the Birdman J 

Lil Wayne, here to hang, other words here to stay 

Feel my pain, Fireman, I spark in the rain 

I walk through the flames, yeah, all for the change, yeah 

Call it insane but I'm a hustler to the muscle 

And them new drop Bentleys look like pussy in the summer 

So I'm fucking that, hugging that, block like I'm loving that 

Never sell a crumb where my mother at! —run with that 

You can come at me for beef! —and shots come with that 

Your bitch come at me for wood! —and I'm the lumberjack! 

I come in that Similac Maybach, shades black 

Looking like I'm tryna bring Yay back, ASAP 

Give it to 'em raw, no Ajax, taste that 

Heh, fuck around and make your face crack 

I know niggas that, shoot dope, arms looking like a racetrack 

Nigga missed a vein in his neck, his whole face fat! 

You can't take that? Well I can't take back 

Where I come from so I learned how to make that 

Yeah, turn that straight to a G stack 

Stack up my cheese, now I'm screaming "Where the keys at?" 

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I'm live from, block one, five-one, where my young 

Niggas on the rise to get a name, don't try them 

—Wayne, I feel your pain and I see your stress 

How they think your people 'posed to get through Katrina off a FEMA check? 

Coke in the Pyrex; dope and the ice, yes; 

Mind on the highway, road signs, right, left 

And that's the mind-state of kids growin' up 

Still they wonder why the crime rate's goin up 

Throw it up: Eastside, Westside, Southside, Northside 

Fuck with my money I? Torch guys, off guys 

Hire men, fire men, send 'em to a higher man (there he go) 

Torture 'em: Vice grip, pliers man 

Niggas turn to tin foil when they see the iron man 

Pressure bust pipes, I apply it and 

Move like a lion through the jungle, yes! 

There is none higher than: Me 

Don't slip up and end wind up in the lion's den! 

Big body Benz idlin', higher than 

A chick that flight-attend or Air Force flyer man 

Bad bitches I fly 'em in, fuck 'em 

Send 'em back home hyped feeling like they on nit-ro-gen 

Just call me the Pied Piper man 

Still get the coke through the pipeline, then off to the piper stem 

And I'm still getting paper back in rubber bands 

I still got paper bags coming in 

I still got that mattress with the paper bags under it 

Comic books, Playboy baby mag under it, still! 

I still got ties with my guys who don't speak no English 

Them Vatos, they got those cheapest; 

Got no green card, got no visas, and got those Pablo features! 

They drop off and pick up; I pick up then drop off 

Then drop off what's picked up, and then what? 

I get it 

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