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joog - lil wayne lyrics

[producer tag]
we got london on da track

[intro chorus]
from stuffing rocks in my polo socks
from stuffing rocks in my ho lil bra, stash
from in her purse to in her house, yeah

[verse 1]
ak with the telescope
filet with a cherry coke
enjoying the fruits of my labor, i pop that cherry hoe
kush loud as a stereo
i got all these medicals
powder bags of heavy snow
eskimo, i’m askin’ more
all that gas like texico
all that ass you s*xy ho
to my white girl, to my weed
that mary jane, that mary joe
private planes and heavy doors
meeting b*tches in metaphors
like these singers poor like singapore
from heaven’s gates to the devil’s doors
i’m joog
i’m hustling baby
all my money i custom made it
numbers don’t lie but people do
that’s why they turn their back on you like 180 degrees
please i run with g’s
they got my back, i front me some keys
i smell a rat, they stunk up the streets
now my peeps ’bout to come with them pumps, like febreeze

[pre*chorus]
joog in a hundred degrees
joog in the cold winter breeze
this yayo almost to my knees
i play in the snow til i freeze
she play with the snow til she sneeze
she way up, she in the nosebleeds
we break in your door for them keys
and you lay on your floor til we leave
here to joog

[chorus]
from stuffing rocks in my polo socks
from stuffing rocks in my ho lil bra, stash
from in her purse to in her house, yeah
i hit a joog and then i bounce
joog

[verse 2]
i joog out the back of the hummer
i joog out the back of the complex
i work that wrist like a timex
i do it big n*gga, 5x
i did not give out no freebee
i don’t play let’s make a deal
i’m taxing if you fake n*gga
i’m taxing if you trill
work, work, i got that work
perc serving, i got them percs
all of these medicine bottles
balling like cedric ceballos
and nina just swallowed some hollows
oh sh*t, that b*tch ’bout to burp
and you know that it’s f*ck the world
so i put your d*ck in the dirt
ball on a f*ck n*gga, spending paper
all these f*ck n*gga instigators
f*ck n*gga head in a refrigerator
chef ’bout to bring it to the dinner tables
my b*tch do lines like printing paper
had to hide the cocaine from the b*tch
had to hide the cocaine from the b*tch
had to hide the cocaine from the b*tch
just made another b*tch love the d*ck
just made another b*tch cum cum
who the motherf*cker? i’m the motherf*cker (me)
here come the undercovers, better run for cover
and when we under pressure we get overheated
and we overheated we turn on the army
and bring a hurricane to a thunderstorm
and leave your block looking like a slumber party
too much stashed in my undergarments
too much cash, that’s an understatement
too many hoes i could understand
but i’m losing all my wars to the undertaker
and i’m ’bout to make these hoes shake their money maker
and i f*ck a b*tch til she making funny faces
jooging like that motherf*cker freddy krueger
i’m jooging like that crazy motherf*cker jason
i’m jooging
these other n*ggas jig
you see not me, i joog
drive horses in that hood
come through that b*tch like vroom, vroom
come through that b*tch like ugh
lil boy your b*tch so ugh
my spoiled b*tch so good
i’m oil rich, i’m good
joog, joog, joog
i joog, joog, joog
wish a n*gga would, good, good
i leave his block like uhh uhh uhh
no ceilings

[chorus]
from stuffing rocks in my polo socks
from stuffing rocks in my ho lil bra, stash
from in her purse to in her house, yeah
i hit a joog and then i bounce

[bridge]
i’m good, i’m good, i’m good, good
i’m good like i never been better
i’m good, i feel like more right than betty
i joog, joog, joog, jooging
joog like my shotty on [?]
i joog like my shotty on[?]

[outro verse]
ak with the telescope
filet with lil cherry coke
ak with the telescope
filet with lil cherry coke
enjoying the fruits of my labor, i pop that cherry hoe
kush loud as a stereo
i got all these medicals
powder bags of heavy snow
eskimo, i’m askin’ more
all that gas like texico
all that ass you s*xy ho
to my white girl, to my weed
that mary jane, that mary joe
ballin’ on a f*ck n*gga, spending paper
all these f*ck n*gga instigators
f*ck n*gga head in a refrigerator
chef ’bout to bring it to the dinner tables
my b*tch do lines like printing paper
had to hide the cocaine from the b*tch
had to hide the cocaine from the b*tch
had to hide the cocaine from the b*tch

- lil wayne lyrics

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