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[Lil' Wayne] (Speak to them Jazze) I (Yea fly guy) I'm way more fly than you (That's right) I'll take your dime from you (That's right) Now she wanna spend all night with me (She wanna wake up with Weezy-F baby) Let me be the one that you roll with too, baby (Throw it back ma, throw it back, throw it back, throw it back ma) I'd like to spend the rest of my night with you (Yea so how bout you, so how bout you) [Lil' Wayne] I'll take your bitch give her back; take your bitch again That's because you throw a 5 I pitch a 10 Now she wanna get inside of me 66 She sees that my wrist is blue and yellow like Michigan She say she love her man she misses him But nobody do it better than her distance dick (me) I'm her long distance pimp When I land my bitches want for me on the strip (yup) And I don't lie I confess, I'm the one who turn that orange vest to a dress Gotta dress to impess though, Gotta stay clean, plus momma in a Lex 4 She with me, what you expect, I live to be fly to death It's the bird man jr. sincerely yours When it rains it pours, when it rain it whores [Chorus] [Lil' Wayne] Now why you wanna go do that I can see through that Tattoo right there like I view that Girl what that say, what who that Bet he was lame, bet he Lil' Wayne (no) Cus I'm way more flyer Have you hanging round a bunch of yayo buyers (nop) And not a day go by us, we don't get high than the telephone wires Cut your telephone we riding where phones don't roam they don't even come on You're far from home so leave it alone You creeping with the king of the throne You sleeping in a tee and a thong With your hair in a pony I ain't got no blinds we can stare at the morning (yup) But I can't be there all morning Girl I'm a pimp, I'm going, going, going, gone [Chorus] [Lil' Wayne] I'm Sorry I was grooving Gotta love that laid back Mannie Fresh music But let's get back to what we were doing Laid back in that black on plat Ewing's That's 33 tires he fire These streets ain't papaya ma You gotta keep heat on your side 2 must So I'm a get 3 more and cop you one Wait, naw hun cus you ain't exempt If your ass ever trip I'll give you a clip (yea) But I love the way your jeans suck in your hip And you walk kinda mean how you strut with a dip And you talk kinda clean and you lick your lips But I can't fall for you cus I stick to the scrip (yup) I said I stick to my grip; I stick to my money, that's life to me Sorry honey Jazze [Chorus] [Lil' Wayne] So how bout you yea So how bout you See what I'm talking bout sweet heart you ain't even gotta have John Madden you ain't gotta have Dick Vitale, you ain't gotta Lee Carsole you ain't gotta have Stuart Scott, you ain't gotta have Linda Cohn know what I'm talking bout, you ain't gotta have the staff of ESPN you ain't gotta have ABC staff just to talk sports baby cus I got game Just fuck with the boy and I'll get you a jersey What you want me to put on the back Daddy's little that's right, see what I'm talking bout I can't give you the game but I can show the game and you can see what you see and peek how you peek and get what you get know what I'm talking bout