Birdman & Lil Wayne - Like Father, Like Son
[Chorus]
There ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, fatherThere ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, father
[Verse 1: Birdman]
Yeah, I'm filthy rich with quarter ki's in the kitchen on 'em
Tha block is hot, but we still outchea gettin' it on 'em
And keep a tool every time we hit the streets
'Cause these niggas act a fool, and we be quick to put it on 'em
Them tear drops, homie
We so not the nigga to fuck with, 'cause we will pop
.40 cal, keep it cocked, nigga, ready to block
Keep a gun, a extra clip, homie, that's how we rock
And like father, like son, daddy, we don't borrow
We stay on the grind, homie, 'cause we grind harder
And fuckin' with me, homie, you won't like
You be the next t-shirt, we in ya hood all night
We got them birds flyin' out, and we done loud the pipes
We do this state-to-state thing and cheat the price
And Rufus came home, and I told him, "They shady"
'Cause he would tell me about them pussy niggas back in the eighties, baby
[Chorus]
There ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, fatherThere ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, father
[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Listen, Birdman put me on when I was just eleven
He was my teacher, so I was like, "Fuck the lesson"
He was my preacher, so I was like, "Fuck the reverend"
My mother Cita, she said that I was with the devil
My mother Cita, now say that he was sent from heaven
So, I take heed to every single word that he tell me
And I remember what my poppa told me
Remember what my poppa told me, Young Stunna
[Verse 3: Birdman]
Yeah, I'm outchea, homie, pitchin' the game
And, yes, I do the whole thing, nigga, give me my change
Yes, we do them old things, out that brand new Range
Lil' nigga like his father, homie, doin' his thing
We keep the gun for the paper, homie, aimed and cocked
Every nigga in my circle, homie, ready to pop
We be ridin' drop top, that's just how we rock
And I'll be rollin' in the Phantom through my uptown blocks, nigga
[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
There ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, fatherThere ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, father
Alright, money on my mind
Look, I-I-I I hear you niggas whisperin'
I say whisperin' 'cause you niggas ain't hollerin' 'bout shit
Po' pussy ass niggas gangsta and me
[Verse 4: Lil Wayne]
Look, Birdman Jr., fuck the world, pops
And we gon' keep it movin', even if the world stops
Stay strapped and laced like girl socks
Stay dapped and draped like a birthday cake
Birthdays was the worst days
Now we sippin' on Louis when we thirsty
You know, I do believe the money's cursed me
So I pray to God that the devil don't murk me, huh
Little Wizzle, but you can just call me first place
And poppa taught me, "Paper chase, never skirt chase"
I put you niggas in the closet, in the shirt space
You niggas yellow like Sesame Street, Bert's face
Worst case scenario, burial
Two-tone Carrera like Mascara, uh
A G4 take your boy where ever
Like Father, Like Son, the era
Nigga
[Chorus]
There ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, fatherThere ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, father
There ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, fatherThere ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, father
[Verse 1: Birdman]
Yeah, I'm filthy rich with quarter ki's in the kitchen on 'em
Tha block is hot, but we still outchea gettin' it on 'em
And keep a tool every time we hit the streets
'Cause these niggas act a fool, and we be quick to put it on 'em
Them tear drops, homie
We so not the nigga to fuck with, 'cause we will pop
.40 cal, keep it cocked, nigga, ready to block
Keep a gun, a extra clip, homie, that's how we rock
And like father, like son, daddy, we don't borrow
We stay on the grind, homie, 'cause we grind harder
And fuckin' with me, homie, you won't like
You be the next t-shirt, we in ya hood all night
We got them birds flyin' out, and we done loud the pipes
We do this state-to-state thing and cheat the price
And Rufus came home, and I told him, "They shady"
'Cause he would tell me about them pussy niggas back in the eighties, baby
[Chorus]
There ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, fatherThere ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, father
[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Listen, Birdman put me on when I was just eleven
He was my teacher, so I was like, "Fuck the lesson"
He was my preacher, so I was like, "Fuck the reverend"
My mother Cita, she said that I was with the devil
My mother Cita, now say that he was sent from heaven
So, I take heed to every single word that he tell me
And I remember what my poppa told me
Remember what my poppa told me, Young Stunna
[Verse 3: Birdman]
Yeah, I'm outchea, homie, pitchin' the game
And, yes, I do the whole thing, nigga, give me my change
Yes, we do them old things, out that brand new Range
Lil' nigga like his father, homie, doin' his thing
We keep the gun for the paper, homie, aimed and cocked
Every nigga in my circle, homie, ready to pop
We be ridin' drop top, that's just how we rock
And I'll be rollin' in the Phantom through my uptown blocks, nigga
[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
There ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, fatherThere ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, father
Alright, money on my mind
Look, I-I-I I hear you niggas whisperin'
I say whisperin' 'cause you niggas ain't hollerin' 'bout shit
Po' pussy ass niggas gangsta and me
[Verse 4: Lil Wayne]
Look, Birdman Jr., fuck the world, pops
And we gon' keep it movin', even if the world stops
Stay strapped and laced like girl socks
Stay dapped and draped like a birthday cake
Birthdays was the worst days
Now we sippin' on Louis when we thirsty
You know, I do believe the money's cursed me
So I pray to God that the devil don't murk me, huh
Little Wizzle, but you can just call me first place
And poppa taught me, "Paper chase, never skirt chase"
I put you niggas in the closet, in the shirt space
You niggas yellow like Sesame Street, Bert's face
Worst case scenario, burial
Two-tone Carrera like Mascara, uh
A G4 take your boy where ever
Like Father, Like Son, the era
Nigga
[Chorus]
There ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, fatherThere ain't no loveThe love of a father, father, father, father, father
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