Lil’ Wayne – Trigger Finger

[Verse 1 – Lil Wayne]I ain’t lookin’ back, niggaI’mma douchebag to these pussy ass niggasHammer in my draws but I nail yo bitchBlunts like fingers, I’m bout to make a fistEverybody die, gon’ bury me aliveGrab life by the horns, put the bullshit asideGlock clip full like the moon in the skyI’m at the gas station adding fuel to the fireLife ain’t shit but bitches and moneyPass that weed, like I studiedBury me in fire and watch me phoenixHighway to Heaven, I’m taking the scenicYou tied to the track of my train of thoughtsAnd controlling my thoughts is like taming sharksAnd these hoes wanna kick it with me, I’mma senseiAnd I got fat pockets, you niggas in shapeTools on deck, tattoos on necksLife is a bitch, I’ll make her yo exBetter turn to God, ‘fore I turn to GodzillaHow the fuck you gon’ talk shit to diarrheaMuthafucka it’s on, I’m just rubbing ’em wrongPut a bug in my ear, but not in my phoneI’ll have a broke muthafucka run in ya homeFor a crumb and a bone and put one in ya dome[Hook]One in ya dome. [x8]Empty stomach, full clipI’m gon get it Gon get itMy trigger finger itchin’My trigger finger itchin’My trigger finger itchin’My trigger finger itchin’My trigger finger itchin'[Verse 2 – Lil Wayne]I don’t like to dream about gettin’ paidYou ain’t gon hurt nobody like Kid ‘n PlayAin’t nun sweet but the codeine niggaEyes hella red like chlorine in ’emI was gettin’ that pussy, I was gettin’ that moneyLong hair, don’t care, Hacksaw Jim DugganToo high to take a breath, too high to take a stepTwo rights don’t make a wrong, three rights, make a leftThe cops on my dick, the feds on my nervesI walk it like I talk it, got legs on my wordsIf she don’t suck dick, I don’t give her that dickGot the world in my hands, I’mma dribble that bitchMoney is the issue, full court pressureI like my blunt, Nutty ProfessorI’mma straight rider with a getaway driverHit you dead on the money now you dead on arrivalI don’t fuck with these niggas, too old for new friendsBut never too rich for new moneyThese niggas buying hatorade by the twelve pack.Like two stomachsI’m laced up like two shoes, miss goodyKeep that ratchet niggaTrigger finger itchin’, I’ll scratch you niggaBlow yo fuckin’ brains out in traffic niggaGot green, New Orleans, St. Patrick niggaOne bitch on the whip, one on the phoneThe one on the phone, is in front of ya homeShe ’bout to run in ya home, and put one in ya dome[Hook][Verse 3 – Soulja Boy]Rest in peace to the game cause I’m fresh to deathRest in peace to the game, tell ’em kill theyselfMake yo deathwish, cuz Im too freshCuz I’m fresh to death, cause I’m fresh to deathYou go broke tryna get fresh like thisRest in peace to the game cause I killed itI’m fresh to death, I’m fresh to deathWhat you talkin’, I came out a coffin[Verse 4 – Lil Wayne]I just can’t see myself, living in a house of mirrorsI bought me a double R, cuz I went from rags to richesAnd these niggas nag like bitchesActin’ like little fags like RichardAnd all of my bitches be bad as visionYou gotta problem I can fix it like a mathematicianI ammunition, call me ammo for shortTrukfit shirt, camo the shortsYa girl is a freak, ya man is a narcPut ya son in ya arm, or put one in ya dome

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