6 Foot 7 Foot

Album: Tha Carter IV (2010)
Charted: 71 9
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  • Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
    Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch

    Ahem excuse my charisma, vodka with a spritzer
    Swagger down pat, call my shit Patricia
    Young Money militia, and I am the commissioner
    You don't want start Weezy, 'cause the F is for Finisher
    So misunderstood, but what's a world without enigma?
    Two bitches at the same time, synchronized swimmers
    Got the girl twisted 'cause she open when you twist her
    Never met the bitch, but I fuck her like I missed her
    Life is the bitch, and death is her sister
    Sleep is the cousin, we're a fuckin' family picture
    You know father time, we all know mother nature
    It's all in the family, but I am of no relation
    No matter who's buying, I'm a celebration
    Black and white diamonds, fuck segregation
    Fuck that shit, my money up, you niggas just Honey Nut
    Young Money running shit and you niggas just runner-ups
    I don't feel I done enough, so I'ma keep on doing this shit
    Lil Tunechi or Young Tunafish

    Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
    Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch

    I'm going back in
    Okay, I lost my mind, it's somewhere out there stranded
    I think you stand under me if you don't understand me
    Had my heart broken by this woman named Tammy
    But hoes gon' be hoes, so I couldn't blame Tammy
    Just talked to moms, told her she the sweetest
    I beat the beat up, call it self defense
    Swear man, I be seeing through these niggas like sequins
    Niggas think they He-Men, pow, pow, the end
    Talking to myself because I am my own consultant
    Married to the money, fuck the world, that's adultery
    You full of shit, you close your mouth and let yo ass talk
    Young Money eating, all you haters do is add salt
    Stop playing, bitch, I got this game on deadbolt
    Mind so sharp, I fuck around and cut my head off
    Real nigga all day and tomorrow
    But these mu'fuckers talking crazy like they jaw broke
    Glass half empty, half full, I'll spill ya
    Try me and run into a wall, outfielder
    You know I'ma ball 'til they turn off the field lights
    The fruits of my labor, I enjoy 'em while they still ripe
    Bitch, stop playing, I do it like a king do
    If these niggas animals, then I'ma have a mink soon
    Tell 'em bitches I say put my name on the wall
    I speak the truth, but I guess that's a foreign language to y'all
    And I call it like I see it, and my glasses on
    But most of y'all don't get the picture 'less the flash is on
    Satisfied with nothing, you don't know the half of it
    Young Money, Cash Money
    Paper chasing, tell that paper, "Look, I'm right behind ya"
    Bitch, real G's move in silence like lasagna
    People say I'm borderline crazy, sorta kinda
    Woman of my dreams, I don't sleep so I can't find her
    You niggas are gelatin, peanuts to an elephant
    I got through that sentence like a subject and a predicate
    Yeah, with a swag you would kill for
    Money too strong, pockets on bodybuilder
    Jumped in a wishing well, now wish me well
    Tell 'em kiss my ass, call it kiss and tell

    Word to my mama, I'm out of my lima bean
    Don't wanna see what that drama mean, guess I'm Dramamine
    Llama scream, hotter than summer sun on a Ghana queen
    Now all I want is hits, bitch, Wayne signed a fiend
    I played the side for you niggas that's tryna front, and see
    Son of Gunz, Son of Sam, you niggas the son of me
    Pause for this dumber speech, I glow like Buddha
    Disturb me, and you'll be all over the flow like Luda
    Bitch, I flow like scuba, bitch, I'm bold like Cuba
    And I keep a killer ho, she gon' blow right through ya
    I be macking, 'bout my stacking, now I pack like a mover
    Shout to ratchet for backing out on behalf of my shooter
    Niggas think they high as I, I come laugh at your ruler
    Cash Money cold, bitch, but our actions is cooler
    Wayne, these niggas out they mind
    I done told these fuck niggas, so many times
    That I keep these bucks steady on my mind
    Tuck these, I fuck these on your mind, pause
    To feed them, on my grind, gonna need a little luck
    Keep throwing my sign in the middle
    Hit 'em up, piece on my side, 'cause ain't no peace on my side, bitch
    I'm a man, I visit urinals abroad
    Tune told me to, I'm shooting when the funeral outside
    I'm uptown, thoroughbred, a B.X. nigga, ya heard?
    Gunna Writer/s: Dwayne Carter, Greg Attaway, Irvin Burgie, Peter Pankey, Shondrae Crawford
    Publisher: BMG Rights Management, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind


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