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wedding cake - wb nutty lyrics

[intro: veeze]
gang, gang, gang, ganger
yeah, original, my n*gga
y’all can add us up, we been passed a million, we just goin’ for ten (ooh, it’s bluestrip, baby)
y’all n*ggas little enough to go on a keychain, n*gga, y’all can’t f*ck with us
i’m reall on some brothers only only
man, alright
i ain’t even really on no rap sh*t for real, n*gga

[verse 1: veeze]
all these freestyles got my mama in alexander w*ng
i need the money machine, too much sh*t, gotta give my hands a break
lil’ b*tch tat my name i ain’t never claim and we never dated
if i was [?], put a pint of wock’ on my wedding cake
gettin’ high just like heaven, rock just like i’m in a heavy metal gang
she just got high off the shrooms, she wanna f*ck me and give me some head in sp*ce
(the f*ck i say?)
i got some money so old, she asked me my age, i told her i’m seventy*eight
[verse 2: wb nutty]
i got some young n*ggas on that, so you gotta watch how you play it
i’ma mix the raw with the meds, right now, i’m goin’ all in
last week, it was two stacks, i’m tryna double up
yeah, it sound good, but he ain’t one of us
it’s a dollar*fifty if you cash me out
it’s two hundred if i gotta front you
5k for a verse, n*gga, i don’t give a motherf*ck ’bout you
f*ck rap, i’ll still cook a n*gga, have lil’ cuz rerock it
that’s my n*gga, split it fifty*fifty, i bring all the dealers with me
i know you heard about the daisy, should’ve seen what we did in the city

[verse 3: veeze]
my lil’ n*ggas certified tweakers, they keep spinnin’, spinnin’
this b*tch keep callin’ my phone talkin’ nasty like pretty ricky
we stretched that b*tch so bad, she lost her hips and titties
my cup so godd*mn dark, b*tch look like michael finley
you keep sneak dissing, i’ma k!ll your ass if you be specific
i knew i was gon’ be rich, all the ogs seen it in me
lil’ girl, lil’ boy in the trap, i feel like a pediatrician
better ask ’bout the white house boys, n*gga, we up an easy million

[interlude: veeze]
no cap, man (no cap, though)
f*ck goin’ on
they know what’s goin’ on, man
ayy, what the f*ck i was on?
[verse 4: veeze]
after i touch a cool fifty million, i’m retired (i’m done)
that lil’ n*gga wanna be me, steal my style, i inspired him
your people ain’t even got enough for a casket, buy ’em fish and fry ’em
i’m [?] n*gga, i don’t never mug, i’ll slime you while i’m smiling
i got a bale [?] sippin’ the wock’ of exotic chronic
i told lil’ cuz [?] get hired, then drop him a body
i got a b*tch who be sellin’ her p*ssy, it look like a top model
yeah, if you ain’t talkin’ poppin’ the top off of seals, i don’t pop bottles
all these freestyles got my mama in alexander w*ng
i need the money machine, too much sh*t, gotta give my hands a break

- wb nutty lyrics

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