No Other

Intro

Yeah, what it do

Haha, heh, already

Yeah, listen man, yeah my niqqa

We got this shit

Ey, ey, i tried told them, yeah

Cash Money Millionaire, ya know

I Can't Feel My Face

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, let's go

Let's go, let's go, haa, i told them

Shoutout to Bun B, yeah

Verse 1

Yeah, straight up D-Boy, 17th Ward

Miss Katrina turned my city to a seesaw

I keep goin' for them corners like Lyor

They gon' either respect me or he all

Burnin them bitches like a sequel

Punk, put a hump in your back, they called it Igor

What, this shit is hard, any yard where we are

We call that cocaine rice, i got that Condoleezza

Huh, you fuck with me chump, i rock your teacup

I say before you spend a dollar boy, put up the re-up

Yep, get up cuz we up, foot up and knee up in the game

Put up and shut up, i hit your head up or go bang

Birdgang and the Birdman J, Lil Wayne

Here to hang, other words here to stay, feel my pain

Fireman, i spark and i rain, i hark through the flames

Yeah, all for the change, yeah

Call it insane but im a hustler to the muscle

And them new drop Bentley's look like pussy in the summer

So im fuckin' that, huggin that block like im lovin' that

Never sell a crumb where my mother at, run with that

You can come at me for beef and shots come with that

Your bitch come at me for wood and im the lumberjack

I come in that Similac Maybach, shades black

Lookin' like im tryna bring yay back, asap

Give it to em raw, no ajax, taste that

Fuck around and make your face crack

I know niggaz that shoot dope, arms lookin' like a racetrack

Nigga missed a vein in his neck, his whole face fat

You can't take that, well i can't take back

Where i come from so i learned how to make that

Yeah, turn that straight to a G stack

Stack up my cheese, now im screamin "where the keys at"

Interlude

I Can't Feel My Face

I really don't think they ready for this

Verse 2

I'm from block one, five-one, where my young

Niggaz on the rise to get a name, don't try them

Wayne, i fell your pain and i see your stress

How they think your people 'posed to get through Katrina off of FEMA checks

Coke in a Pyrex, dope and the ice, yes

Mind on the highway, road signs, right, left

And that's the mind-state of kids growin' up

Still they wonder why the crime rate's goin up, throw it up

Eastside, Westside, Southside, Northside

Fuck with my money, i torch guys, off guys

Hire men, fire men, send em to a higher man (there he go)

Torture em, vice grip, pliers man

Niggaz turn to tin foil when they see the iron man

Pressure bust pipes, i apply it and

Move like a lion through the jungle (yes)

There is none higher than me

Don't slip up and wind up in the lion bend

Big body Benz eyein' man, higher than

A chick that flight-attend or air force flyer man

Bad bitches, i fly em and fuck em

Send em back home hyped, feelin' like they on nitrogen

Just call me the Pied Piper man

Still get the coke through the pipeline then off to the piper stem

And im still gettin' paper back in rubber bands

I still got paper bags comin' in

I still got that mattress with the paper bags under it

Comic books, Playboy baby mag under it

Still, i still got ties with my guys who don't speak no English

Them vatos, they got those cheapest

Got no green card, got no visas

And got those Pablo features

They drop off then pick up, i pick up then drop off

The drop off was picked up and then what, i get it