"That's What They Call Me" lyrics - LIL WAYNE

LIL WAYNE
"That's What They Call Me"

(Lil Wayne - Verse 1)
Man, I ain't got nothing but some p-ssy and some paper
I keep a bad bitch like a muthaf-cking laker
I don't love them hoes, f-ck that p-ssy till its aching
Pass a bitch like Troy Aikman
Man, gangsta's don't die, gangsta's go to Vegas
We don't need no navigation, we go where the money takes us
Muthaf-cking fools, like the first of f-cking April
I ain't never been a p-ssy, have you ever been in p-ssy
That's so muthaf-cking good, feel like a treasure in a p-ssy
I'm a shovel in a p-ssy, or devil to them p-ssy
Spill the champagne on them p-ssies
Yeah, same shit different rest room
Stop playing, I turn ya chest into a flesh wound
Ha, you would never guess who in my guest room
Now they saying "just me Tune!"

Tunechi, that what they call me man
Bitch dog muthaf-cker, you's a Pomeranian
They say f-ck me, then Karma came
And since my case, I got my guns in my momma name

And since my case, I got my guns in my momma name
In my momma name?guns in my momma name
And since my case, I got my guns in my momma name

(Lil Wayne - Verse 2)
I'm smoked out, I'm by myself
Bithc, I'm a king no matter how the cards are dealt
It's Young Money or it's take money
Long hair don't care, call me jake sully
Pay me or pay for me

I tell 'em hoes stay on ya toes, ballet for me
Momma pray for me
Goons spray for me
I have 'em bring me your head on a tray for me
Cut the brain raw, p-ssy ass n-gga I'm at your chest like a training bra
Tune talk that shit that rip straight through the kevlar
Pull a bitch over, dump his ass in a reservour
Real n-gga repertoire
Add five or six blunts to the head, it helps
Reportin' live from the top of the food chain
We eatin man, now what my name?
Tunchi, yep! That what they call me man

(Gudda Gudda)
Gudda Gudda, double G, it's all the same
The game ain't never been the same since the Carter came
And I stay high bitch, fly like the largest plane
You Captain save a ho, cuffin like a sergeant man
Duck tap eon the handle of my pistol n-gga
And I don't spit no more I drool like a retarded man
Shawty on my lap, watch me pump pump up the party man
Don't you hold a grudge 'cause your bitch chose me, I'm sorry man
Young n-gga with old school, game like an Atari man
That's your ho callin' man
I'm Gudda Gudda bitch, that's what they call me man