Sorry 4 The Wait Lyrics - Sorry 4 The Wait - Lil Wayne

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 - oops, I meant a Tampax 

Bitch, I keep that anthrax 

I can get your man wacked, for a couple Tan packs 

Shoot up your Sedan 'Lac 

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 niggas 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 

Niggas ain't OG, scary lil bitch, please 

Tune ate pussy in the can: Frisky 

I got 10 up on my pinky ring and 20 on my bracelet 

Now these niggas 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 

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 

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Almost forgot I'm Raw Dizzy by the way 

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 mother fucking 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 niggas 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 

Drop ya like an otterbox 

They Sleeping on me like I'm rapping with a blanket 

Kill a nigga have him thinking that he planking 

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 mothafuckin' team on 

Now let my chopper ring, "Baka!" is my ringtone 

Fuck you ho-ass niggas, 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 - Oreos 

And I get loaded til I mother fucking overload 

Been rappin', flows still tight like aerobic's clothes 

Ask them bitches, I told em' hoes 

They back it up like Sonny drive in Bronx Tale closure tho 

Lighter in my pocket, light the sky rocket 

Pull em hammers out and 

run them nigga's like Stocktons 

Got some niggas from my city 

Thugga, Dizzy, Flow 

Sorry 4 the Wait, coming soon, Carter IV, beyotch! 

Photos