Pu$$y (rnt) Lyrics - Lupe Fiasco

Lord have Murcielagos waiting on the nigga 

At the end when the time come 

Get the drop on the weed spot 

Like there's too much water in the tea pot, huh 

Lord have Murcielagos on the poor, nigga, pour, nigga 

They adore the event of war 

Down force on the doors of adored niggas 

Does the Lord like to thank award winners? 

And the war winners'll rewards inner 

Or the all-enders ain't the pure chemists 

So the form in this can be raw in this like the porn business 

Keen to king 'til the, 'til the pawn hit us 

If he goes, half a million sold, sold the soul, going gold 

In the end will it go to the pawn business? 

You ain't doing nothing with it 

Let a nigga get it for the low-low-low-low 

Lames tried to form it, brains couldn't storm it like a Ororo-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro 

In the Philippines eating chicken wings, smothered with adobo-dobo-dobo-do 

Vatos, fiascos, vocos locos like a cho-lo-lo-lo 

Gadget go, go, go, go, go 

Ratchet ho, ho, ho, ho, ho 

Santa ho, ho, ho, ho, ho 

K-Ci, Jo-Jo-Jo-Jo-Jo 

Brown skin brother in a fed box at the hell lil' nigga live there for months 

Except these young, black males wouldn't drive if you give them trucks 

Nigga, nigga, nigga what 

I don't give a, give a, give a, fuck 

With a, with a mind full of money, pockets full of nothing 

Niggas gonna feel what a nigga feel 

Always been a winner ever since beginner 

All the way to the end and never ever been a pussy 

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Pussy nigga, pussy pussy nigga, pussy pussy nigga get fucked 

Photos 

Lord, please keep these diablo niggas off a nigga mind 

Lord, please keep these diablo niggas off a nigga spine 

Lord, please keep me Fiasco outta rest of these nigga lie 

These nigga lie, these nigga lie, these nigga lie, these nigga lie 

Lord, please forgive me for the sinning 

Sinning please forgive me for the snitching to the Lord 

Openin' for businesses to the ribbon niggas wanting to get in, open up the doors 

Son wanna feel 'em, open up the ceiling 

Niggas start tripping, open up the floor 

Trap like Indiana Jones looking for a map 

That I sketched on the back on one of my raps under my hat 

Coffin is the cousin to the bed that's under my back 

Dream so real niggas die taking one of my naps 

Mattress full of money, monster under that sheets full of raps 

Comfort for the weak, sleep for the whack 

Party while you slumber, tell 'em money coming, jump in my sack 

Niggas wanna exercise, exercise I-X-I ain't no jumpin' my jack 

If I lift an arm I'mma lift a car, nigga, that's a gun in my lap 

Hurdle to the tire, chariots of fire 

I'm a flyer, take you under my flap 

Is he going nuts? Is he going bolts? 

No, going both running my track 

Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga what 

I just figure, figure, figure you gon' be a nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga what 

And since niggas is faster than them white folks on the tracks 

White folks tightrope, like both, I could be a sprintin' nigga 

Nik Wallenda, runnin' over rap 

I higher, higher wire, you a wire on a power pad running over that 

Running over that, running over that, running over that, running over that 

Five time winner, five-nine, fine line thinner 

Einstein mind, mind bender 

Fine dine, nine, wine, find cocaine in my mind's antenna 

Pussy! 

Pussy nigga, pussy pussy nigga, pussy pussy nigga get fucked