Gudda Gudda - I Don't Like The Look (Willy Wonka) Lyrics


Gudda Gudda Lyrics

I Don't Like The Look (Willy Wonka) Lyrics
(feat. Lil Wayne)

[Gudda Gudda:]
Ok I'm sippin on the syrup
Got a nigga moving slow
I'm all about the money
What the f*ck you think I do it for
Bitch don't act like you don't know
I'm killing all these rap niggas
Custom made caskets for you muthaf*cka funerals
Keep the women with me
Shit I gotta keep like two or more
Party everyday like we won the f*cking Superbowl
Chillin with my nigga Mack, he keep bitches handy
White girl on the table love them sniff nose candy
When I'm walking by the women say " Who is that nigga? "
I replied "Hi, I am Gudda Gudda that nigga"
I was raised in the home of da Cap Splitters
Whip on 24's watch it crawl like a caterpillar
I come with a toy boy like a Happy Meal
And yous a muthaf*ckin' duck, Daffy Dill
I'm from the school of Hard Knocks, where we scrap and kill
Pick the knife or gunner, you can get the package deal
I'm hot nigga, burning everything around me
I was lost for a minute took a while but I found me
The streets say I'm King but the game will never crown me
Realist nigga doin it just ask the niggas around me
So you can't size me up or try to clown uh
Shark in the water jump in and I'm a drown ya
New Orleans nigga, Gun out, I'm a down ya
Put niggas to sleep like a muthaf*ckin' downer
I'm a Great White, yous a flounder
Fish and a bitch I tuna eveything around ya
U-Haul Gudda, moving everything around ya
It's Young Money Bitch
At the top is where they found us

[Lil Wayne:]
Uhh, Goons on deck
Marley don't shoot em'
Silence on the gun
Watch a nigga mute em'
The coach in the booth
Call me Jon Gruden
School these niggas, they all my students
All jokes aside, I ain't playin' with cha
The weed broke down, like a transmission
Tha choppa spin him round, like a ballerina
Bitch I'm still spittin like I ate a Jalapeno
I'm from uptown, my bitch from Argentina
My pockets on fat like Joey Cartagena
Stunt so hard, it's all y'all fault
And when it come to beef give me A1 Sauce
I ain't worryin bout shit, Everything paid out
You could catch me courtside in Dwayne Wade's house
With a high yellow thick bitch with her legs out
Cash Money president but we in a red house
Who the f*ck want it? Make my f*ckin' day
I blow your candles out, now nigga cut that cake
I gotta eat bitches, like a run-away
Y'all niggas ain't eatin, stomach ache
Ok, all these bitches, And niggas still hatin
I used to be ballin', But now I'm Bill Gate'n
F*ckin with my iPhone, bumpin Illmatic
I'm on the road to riches, there's just a lil traffic
Hair still platted, thuggin is a habbit
Keep my guitar, Hip-Hop Lenny Kravitz
Bunch of bad bitches and I f*ck em like rabbits
Dope dick Weezy, ya girlfriend an addict, Uhh


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