Lil Wayne – You Ain’t Got Nuthin’ ft Fabolous & Juelz Santana

American rapper, Lil Wayne teams up with Fabolous and Juelz Santana to create this awesome song titled “You Ain’t Got Nuthin'”.

This intriguing record which appeared on his top charting album project called “Tha Carter III” was officially released on 8 June 2008.

We would like you to add this undeniable hit song to your playlist, you won’t regret it yuh.

Listen up below!.

DOWNLOAD Lil Wayne You Ain’t Got Nothing FREE AUDIO MP3

LYRICS

Yes!

What it look like, Alc’?

I’m tryna show these niggas, man

It’s that Street Fam, man, we rep that (ha ha ha ha!)

Loso! Street fi-di-di-di-dam (Yes!)

 

Yo, I’m with 101 niggas, we Dalmatian-doggy-deep (Yes)

And fly with the tongue, so if you’re feeling froggy, leap (C’mon)

Kermit, you better think before you ribbit

Don’t get murdered over your song before you ad-lib it

I pop up like Xzibit (Yeah), but given I’m at your crib, it’s (Yeah)

Not to put no fucking fish tanks in your Civic (Nah)

Fuck getting your ride pimped, you’ll get hog-tied, wimp

Have you in the trunk curled up like fried shrimp (ha ha ha ha)

It’s been a good year, maybe I should ride blimp (What you think?)

‘Cause your boy just stay above the game

They tryna tag him, spray a brother frame

But your shots can’t reach me, I’m way above your aim, ha

Go ‘head, nigga, say another name

Take this family for a joke (Ay), play them Wayan-brother games

And I’ma Git You Sucka, I be scheming with this Keenan (That’s right)

Aiming with this Damon, I’m putting that Major Payne in (Oh)

My Little Man is on you, Marlon and Shawn you (Yeah)

Lay the beef on his noodle, make some Luger lasagna

Forty-cal fettuccine, trey-pound pasta

You reach for this medallion, you must like Italian, nigga

You only see me pushing if the driver’s tired (Yes!)

I work the S6 ever since the 5 retired (Yes!)

The drop-top, they say it’s Ocean-Drive-inspired

So you can call a cab once your bitch fall for Fab

 

Ugh, I get money like a motherfucker

Shades darker than a bitch, but I can see

I got everything, you got nothing

But you ain’t got nothing on me

Oh, I’m getting money like a motherfucker (Mr. HD)

Yeah, money you ain’t never see (High definition)

Yeah, I got everything, you got nothing (That’s how I’m coming at you niggas, you dig? Santana! Ay!)

But you ain’t got nothing on me (ha ha ha!)

 

I’m on the grind ’til the police come (Yeah)

With that pistol on my side, boy, don’t be dumb (Ha), or

I let that semi twirl you (Get ’em); now you can follow the drip

‘Cause one shot out of the clip’ll Jheri-curl you (Ooh)

Leave you sloppy like seconds, obey me like peasants

Or get opened up like presents—please!

My young boys wilding for respect

Slit your throat, have you smiling with your neck, say “cheese” (Ha)

My dough’s a bit longer (Yup), my flow is just slaughter (Yup)

My wrist look like frozen Poland Spring water (Damn)

So tell me, boys, tell me, boys, who you think you’re messing with? (Who?)

I get money out the ass, that’s some expensive shit (Ill!)

Haven’t you all heard? (What?) Y’all all herbs (Yup!)

I stick toothpicks (Where?) in y’all hors d’oeuvres

(Listen) I’m a shark, y’all just koi fish

(What else?) Octopus (What else?) Oysters (ha ha!)

Chump! I got my eye on your wifey now (Yeah!)

I have her lick me up (Up!) and then wipe me down (Down!)

She told me you’s a nag, you’s a bug (Damn!)

She told me I’m a blast, I’m a stud (Damn!)

She told me you’d be beasting, you’d be checking for the burns

So I gave her knee pads for the rug (ha ha!)

It’s Skull Gang from the chain to the lifestyle

You surfboard dudes get wiped out—totally

 

Ugh, oh, I’m getting money like a motherfucker

Shades darker than a bitch, but I can see

I got everything, you got nothing

But you ain’t got nothing on me

Oh, I’m getting money like a motherfucker

Yeah, money you will never see

Yeah, I got everything, you got nothing (Uh-huh, uh-huh)

But you ain’t got nothing on me (Uh-huh, check me out)

Get you—three, four—get you

Like the number after one, I’ma get me, too

It’s Weezy F.U. Now, you gotta have a baby

My money don’t folds nor bends—Mercedes

Maybach, grey-black

And I got a four-four and a ‘K, like eight stacks

Fuck your city and your town, I state facts—Take that!

No, better yet, like Diddy: “Take that”

Wait—rats, I hate rats, I clean ’em out like Ajax

Got paper like a fax machine, asi-neen

Damn I mean asinine, I’m dapper don, and after mine

There will be nine, damn I mean, there will be none

I will be one of the greatest things you’ve ever felt

You’ve ever seen or heard, Carter, Harvard, y’all scared

Not me, not I, call me “Young Popeye”

Tell Bluto I’m a Nuno, I bring RAL to your funeral

Damn, I mean “funeral”, “funeral”

You say “tomato”, I say “tomato”

You say “get ’em”, I say “got ’em”—yeah, I got ’em!

Man, you better keep paying me ’cause you don’t want my problems

I be wilding like Capital One—what is in your wallet?

You fly, but what is it to pilot?

Weezy—I’m at the top, foot up in your bottom

Huh, damn, I mean “foot up in your ass”

I kick that shit, now go and put it in the trash

 

Deezle! Ugh, I’m getting money like a motherfucker

Shades darker than a bitch, but I can see

I got everything, you got nothing

But you ain’t got nothing on me

Yeah, I’m getting money like a motherfucker

Yeah, money you will never see

Yeah, ugh, ugh

And you ain’t got nothing on me

Yeah, I’m getting money like a motherfucker

Shades darker than a bitch, but I can see

I got everything, you got nothing

But you ain’t got nothing on me

Yeah, I’m getting money like a motherfucker

Yeah, big money, nigga

Big money, nigga, big money, nigga

Yeah, and you ain’t got nothing on me