Fly Out

We here I said we here The back of Tha Carter, yeah The back of Tha Carter Two, uh Yeah This here is The end of Tha Carter II, people Hey, yeah I got the game on ball and chain I threw the key in the drain, I'm like a key in a drought I spent a G on these frames, but my vision is priceless Seeing through you niggas like a fucking psychic Hearing through the grapevine, niggas wanna hate mine Say my name and die in the daytime You catch my drift, man, you better be Peyton Boy, the heat's on, they're making peace bonds I'm in this bitch throwing up the "17th" sign Straight frowns, no daps, strapped three times That TEC-11, AK-47, one Beretta Ready for whatever, tell them p***y niggas, "Come together" Heavy better, nigga, super-soaker wet a nigga Six feet under flowers, you ain't nothing but a petal, nigga I'm just a little nigga trying to be a civil nigga Thirty-years-old, shit, that'll be a given, nigga Quit it, Wayne, your mom is listening But she ain't really tripping 'cause the pots is pissed in Them niggas tripping until the shots whistling Hear them bullets hissing like a cobra at attention I got a bitch and quit calling women bitches As long as she don't worry 'bout the coke in the kitchen No preventing the grind, I gotta get it I'm admitted to the game, true player, no quitting There you go shitting on the way a nigga thinking Only history I know is Benjamin Franklin And since the future ain't promised to no one I live every day like this is the sure one Trade in the tidal wave, this is the ocean Stand in that heat 'til the motherfucking snow come And it feels so fucking good Throw my dope like a rope, let 'em tug and pull No hope for the hopeless, rats and roaches Running 'cross the porch, in the attic there's a fortune Come and get it, automatics in motion We're banging for the bread, nigga, even the molded I got my loaf, I got my toast Chaperone of the South, I got my coast Yeah, and until I die I'm the, the-the, the-the, the Best Rapper Alive