Lil Wayne ft. Junior Reid – Rappapompom Lyrics

(Chorus 1 – Junior Reid)
You only got a few days more
To get the guns you want at the gun store
On the first day of Christmas, Guess what Santa bring for me
A Glock, a magnum, a rusty M3

(Chorus 2 – Junior Reid]
Rappapompom, we don’t want no rom pom pom pom

(Verse 1 – Lil Wayne)
Welcome to hell I let em burn
Momma told me don’t play with them choppas I never learn
I hold the tube tight & firm I don’t squirm
Killers hold court in the street court is adjourned
These ni**as sleeping, hope they keep it in they knapsack
Watch me while I’m creeping leave em leaking like a flap jack
Hustle all day like we eating on the last stack
We play with ak’s boy you need to bring that mac back
Hand gun they don’t want no hand gun
Tote a shotty with a bass drum
Say something, I’m from where them ni**as can’t come
We die rich & young
We die handsome and
Me I never ran from another man son
I take alot a shots, bi**h ni**a and one
So throw away them Glocks
I hope they praying for ya
You hear that chop now you sayin something

(Repeat Chorus 2)

(Verse 2 – Lil Wayne)
Murda she wrote ni**a we loke
You can get smoked like brand new dope
Brand new scopes on old ass guns from brand new beef
If he play you cold you give him heat
Play that roll get in them streets
You pay that toll life ain’t cheap
The streets is watching
The streets can see what you can’t see
You ain’t safe, you ain’t free
You just a target with teeth
Ya’ll ni**as don’t hear me
Shoot him in the eye make the ni**a see clearly
Now he only got one eye like the pyramid
Bi**h, I’m in the game like the beer man, hear me
They on my crash shooting down like a deer, man
Down down baby going down like airtran
Yeah & you don’t wanna take it there man
Because I’m already there man
I’m saying

(Repeat Chorus 1 & 2)

(Verse 3 – Lil Wayne)
Survival of the fittest it is well known there’s no water like my city’s
Some of us are killers some of them are jus swimmers
Ni**as got choppas ni**as got trimmers
Ni**as got problems ni**as got business
Ni**as got children ni**as got bi**hes
B*tches got bi**hes
I know bi**hes realer then you
Ni**a I done seen keys bigger then you
Yeah ni**a you ain’t on s**t
Cut off a ni**a head make him s**k his own d**k
No he don’t want that & he don’t want this
I shoot a hundred times I be blind if I miss
You know I gotta put the dollar sign before the bi**h
Every movie gotta end but I’m just sticking to the script
Addicted to the chips commited to my clique
Cash money mother f**ker get the pistol to your lips

(Repeat Chorus 1 & 2)