I Don’t Like the Look of It - Lil Wayne ft. Lil Wayne, Gudda Gudda

I don't like the look of it

Okay, I'm sippin on the syrup, got a nigga movin slow

I'm all about the money, what the fuck you think I do it for?

Bitch don't act like you don't know, I'm killin all these rap niggas

Custom made caskets for yo' motherfuckin funeral

Keep the women with me, shit I gotta keep like two or more

Party everyday, like we won the fuckin Super Bowl

Chillin wit my nigga Mack, he keep bitches handy

White girl on the table, let 'em sniff the nose candy

When I'm walkin by, the women sayin, "Who is that nigga?"

I replied, "Hi, I am Gudda Gudda, that nigga!"

I was raised in the home of the cap splitters

Whip on 24's, watch it crawl like a caterpillar

I come with a toy boy like a Happy Meal

And you's a motherfuckin duck, Daffy-dil

I'm from the school of hard knocks, where we scrap and kill

Pick the knife or gun or you can get the package deal

I'm hot, nigga, burnin everything around me

I was lost for a minute, took a while but I found me (Gudda)

The streets say I'm king but the game'll never crown me (Gudda)

Realest nigga doin it just ask them niggas 'round me (Gudda)

So you cain't size me up or try to clown a—

Shark in the water, jump in and I'ma drown you

New Orleans nigga, gun out, I'ma down you

Put niggas to sleep like a muh'fuckin' downer (Gudda)

I'm a Great White, you's a flounder

Fish and a bitch, I tuna eveything around you

UHaul Gudda, movin everything around you (Yeah)

It's Young Money, bitch! At the top is where they found us, nigga

Ugh, 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 ya

The weed broke down, like a transmission

Tha chopper spin him 'round, like a ballerina

Bitch I'm still spittin like I ate a jalape-na

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 house

With a high yellow thick bitch wit her legs out

Cash Money president, but we in a red house

Who the fuck want it? Make my fuckin day

I blow your candles out, now nigga cut the cake

I gotta eat, bitch! Like a runaway

Y'all niggas ain't eatin, stomach ache

Okay, all these bitches, and niggas still hatin

I used to be ballin, but now I'm Bill Gatein

Fuckin with my iPhone, bumpin' Illmatic

I'm on the road to riches, there's just a lil' traffic

Hair still platted, thuggin is a habit

Keep my guitar, hip hop Lenny Kravitz

Bunch of bad bitches and I fuck 'em like rabbits

Dope dick Weezy, ya girlfriend an addict, uh