Willy Wonka lyrics

[Chorus; Gudda Gudda]
I don't like the look of it

[Verse 1: Gudda Gudda]
Ok I'm sipping on the syrup got a n*gga movin slow
I'm all bout the money what the f*ck you think I do it for
b*tch don't act like you don't know I'm killing these rap ass n*ggas
Custom made caskets for your motherf*cking funeral
Keep these women with me sh*t I gotta keep like two or more
Party everyday like we won the f*cking superbowl
Chilling with my n*gga mack he keeps b*tches handy
White girls on the table let them sniff the nose candy
When I'm walking by the women sayin who is that n*gga
I reply hi I am Gudda Gudda that n*gga
I was raised in a home of them cap splitters
Whip on 24s watch it crawl like a caterpillar
I come with a toy boy like a happy meal
And you a motherf*ckin duck daffy dill
From the school of hard knocks where we scrap and kill
Pick the knife or gun or you could get the package deal
I'm hot n*gga burning everything around me
I was lost for a minute took a while but I found me
The streets say I'm king but the game will never crown me
Realest n*gga doing it just ask the n*gga round me
So you can't size me up but try to clown a
Shark in the water jump in and I'ma drown ya
New orleans n*gga gun out I'ma down ya
Put n*ggas to sleep like a motherf*ckin downer
I'm a great white you a flounder
Fish ain't a b*tch I'll tuna everything around ya
U-Haul Gudda move everything around ya
It's young money b*tch at the top is where they found us
n*gga
[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Goons on deck, Marley don't shoot 'em
Silence on a gun, watch a n*gga mute 'em
The coach in the booth, call me Jon Gruden
School these n*ggas they all my students
All jokes aside, I ain't playing with ya
The weed broke down like a transmission
The choppers spin ’em around like a ballerina
b*tch I'm still spitting like I ate a jalapeno
I'm from uptown, my b*tch from Argentina
My pockets on fat like Joey Cartagena
Stunt so hard it's all y'all fault
And when it come to beef give me A-1 sauce
I ain't worrying about sh*t everything paid out
You could catch me courtside in Dwayne Wade house
With a high yellow thick b*tch with her legs out
Cash Money President but we in the Red House
Who the f*ck want it? Name a f*cking day
I blow your candles out, now n*gga cut the cake
I gotta eat b*tch, like a runaway
Ya'll n*ggas ain't eating stomach-ache
Ok all these b*tches and n*ggas still hatin
I used to be ballin but now I'm Bill Gatin
f*ck her with my iPhone bumpin’ illmatic
I'm on the road to riches. It's just a lil traffic
Hair still platted f*ckin is a habit
Keep my guitar hip hop Lenny Kravitz
Bunch of bad b*tches and I f*ck 'em like rabbits
Dope di*k Weezy, your girlfriends an addict
Uh
[Outro]
DJ Rockstar, DJ Ill Will
We got the internet on lock