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Artist: Lil Wayne
Album:  Da Drought 3 (Disc One)
Song:   Hard Body
Typed by:

(Lil Wayne, talking)

Yeah, uh huh, the fuck was I thinkin'?
Drought three, bitch!
Yeah, how ya like my see-through blunt?
What'cha know 'bout it?
Get it! Weezy da name, money's the game

(Verse 1, Lil Wayne)

Hard body, motherfucka, got the heart of a killer
Young God in the building 'bout to start a religion
Bout to call Bin Laden up and order some missiles
Bring 'em straight to yo' block and go to war wit'chu bitches
If you hit the head pin, the rest fall in position
Shoot a nigga on his porch and make him fall in his kitchen
Copped a big boy Porsche with all the specifics
And I keep that torch baby, call me olympics
Red, white, blue pill, flippin' skills like gymnasts
And never give a bitch money, blood, or kidneys
When the gun goes pow, I'll be at the finish
With my medal 'round my neck, or the grand from my tennis
The land of the murder, dope, crack is horrendous
Pull up on ya in a coupe, how fat is ya engine?
Never talk to those that sat on them benches, boy
I was in the game on fourth and inches
These niggas want the business, I'ma give these boys the business
See you fuckin' with the boy that tore toys before Christmas
Got all these ho's trippin', got all these ho's strippin'
And we ain't PSC, but them bitches know we tippin'
I just bought a pint, and ain't none of ya'll sippin'
Make my friends buy they own, fuck I'm tired of bein' friendly
Ain't gotta lie, just don't try to be wit' me
Bitches up in Heaven waitin', done died to be wit' me
I'm crazy for bein' Wayne, or is Wayne just crazy?
I've been around, I'm still around like them Geico cavemen
Hairpin trigger, no, I won't shave it
I spot hip-hop in the ocean, I'm gon' save it
The South is so dirty bitch, you can't bathe it
Holly Grove dog and I feel like mating
Baby girl ya pussy's lookin' so vacant
And it's fuck you, and fuck George Bush not makin'
Fuck waste deep, I'm in over my head
But it's cool I'ma make it, I'm good like bacon
Ya girl wants me to come 'round like Reagan
Ya boyfriend's softer than a carton of egg's and
I don't fear nothin but God and weddings
At the top of my paper, like I'm startin' a heading
My homie Santana, yeah that's my ace
But you may know him as "I can't feel my face"

(Lil Wayne, Talking)

Yeah, Weezy bitch
Give a fuck about'chu at all
I'm paid
Been that way for a long time
Looks like I'ma die like that
Cause if I am, I'ma just die

(Verse 2, Lil Wayne)

Yeah, see they don't know where I came from
But they know where I'm goin'
And I'll tell you just how the top feels when I'm on
In the game I'm no cheetah, I'm a tiger, I'm a cougar
I'm a panther, I'm a dingo, ocho-cinco
I'm ill-y, shirt softer than gilly
In a pair of Gucci fly, feelin' free-er than Willy
When them niggas left I got a little bit chilly
But, I just let it burn, like the end of the Philly