AZLYRICS: Lil Wayne – SportsCenter Lyrics
“SportsCenter”
Cover my tracks like butter, so where the bread be?
I see beef as dead meat
“Who that, the president?” “Yeah, me” No one scare me
And you ain’t gotta double-dare me, hear me?
Loud and clearly, rats aren’t near me
Wiretap niggas get blood in their earpiece
I’m from New Orleans, nowhere near peace
Pure beast, fear-free, dear grief
Catch up, bitch, I’m in gear three
Zoom gone, see you! Peace… drop one finger
(Gangster!) Fuck ’em and whoever made ’em!
I will hurt whoever love ’em, ’cause I hate ’em
Looking for a lady, high and sedated
Got her to the pad, I don’t know how a nigga made it
She gave me relations, so now, we related
The morning comes; the picture faded
I waited on my turn to burn, can I get a light?
Little dog, bigger bite, Jackson Five, Little Mike
Can I get a mic or a mic and a half
That the Source owe me? Shout out to the editing staff, yeah
I’m all grown, so much better with math
I need a spread in the Forbes taking a Benjamin bath, yeah
I’m serving this track like Steffi Graf, yeah
Roger Federer; there’s no competitors
Niggas know my rhetoric; bitches know my preference
Young God, baby: all them other niggas reverends
Sitting in my big house surrounded by my weaponries
I keep them away like I got leprosy
Chopper right next to me, loaded up with pepper seeds
Got an extra clip, but that’s only for my especiallies, yeah
(Dramatic, Dramatic) This is especially for you
Just respect a nigga game, what kinda referee is you?
Swallow your whistle, make a nigga ride with the pistol
‘Cause the fakest niggas ride with the pistol
Even if I die old, I’mma die with the pistol
And if you stand over my body, I’ll probably kill you, yeah
Now I feel it, Weezy the realest
I wear a lot of Bathing Ape ’cause I be with gorillas, yeah
He what they’re talking bout: topic of the conversation
Product of determination, yeah
Stop playing, you are not up in my situation
I get money like a Caucasian
The car red, so the car Cajun, stop hating
Y’all ballers, I’m a sports agent
Wait a minute, lemme translate it:
It’s Weezy Not-The-Father Motherfucking Baby
I see beef as dead meat
“Who that, the president?” “Yeah, me” No one scare me
And you ain’t gotta double-dare me, hear me?
Loud and clearly, rats aren’t near me
Wiretap niggas get blood in their earpiece
I’m from New Orleans, nowhere near peace
Pure beast, fear-free, dear grief
Catch up, bitch, I’m in gear three
Zoom gone, see you! Peace… drop one finger
(Gangster!) Fuck ’em and whoever made ’em!
I will hurt whoever love ’em, ’cause I hate ’em
Looking for a lady, high and sedated
Got her to the pad, I don’t know how a nigga made it
She gave me relations, so now, we related
The morning comes; the picture faded
I waited on my turn to burn, can I get a light?
Little dog, bigger bite, Jackson Five, Little Mike
Can I get a mic or a mic and a half
That the Source owe me? Shout out to the editing staff, yeah
I’m all grown, so much better with math
I need a spread in the Forbes taking a Benjamin bath, yeah
I’m serving this track like Steffi Graf, yeah
Roger Federer; there’s no competitors
Niggas know my rhetoric; bitches know my preference
Young God, baby: all them other niggas reverends
Sitting in my big house surrounded by my weaponries
I keep them away like I got leprosy
Chopper right next to me, loaded up with pepper seeds
Got an extra clip, but that’s only for my especiallies, yeah
(Dramatic, Dramatic) This is especially for you
Just respect a nigga game, what kinda referee is you?
Swallow your whistle, make a nigga ride with the pistol
‘Cause the fakest niggas ride with the pistol
Even if I die old, I’mma die with the pistol
And if you stand over my body, I’ll probably kill you, yeah
Now I feel it, Weezy the realest
I wear a lot of Bathing Ape ’cause I be with gorillas, yeah
He what they’re talking bout: topic of the conversation
Product of determination, yeah
Stop playing, you are not up in my situation
I get money like a Caucasian
The car red, so the car Cajun, stop hating
Y’all ballers, I’m a sports agent
Wait a minute, lemme translate it:
It’s Weezy Not-The-Father Motherfucking Baby
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