Lil Wayne – A Milli

Download clean vinyl LP mp3 audio song by Lil Wayne and this amazing song is titled “A Milli”.

Actually this wonderful music is popped out of his Hip-Hop/Rap album which is titled ‘Tha Carter III’ and was released in the year “2008”.

Listen up below! With full lyrics.

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Young Money! You dig? Mack I’m going in

A millionaire

I’m a Young Money millionaire, tougher than Nigerian hair

My criteria compared to your career just isn’t fair

I’m a venereal disease like a menstrual bleed

Through the pencil I leak on the sheet of the tablet in my mind

Cause I don’t write shit cause I ain’t got time

Cause my seconds, minutes, hours go to the almighty dollar

And the almighty power of that ch-cha-cha-chopper

Sister, brother, son, daughter, father, mother-fuck a copper

Got the Maserati dancing on the bridge, pussy popping

Tell the coppers ha-ha-ha-ha, you can’t catch ’em, you can’t stop ’em

I go by them goon rules, if you can’t beat ’em then you pop ’em, you can’t man ’em then you mop ’em, you can’t stand ’em then you drop ’em

You pop ’em cause we pop ’em like Orville Redenbacher

Mothafucka, I’m ill

A million here a million there

Sicilian bitch with long hair, with coke in her derriere

Like smoke in the thinnest air, I open the Lamborghini

Hoping them crackers see me like look at that bastard Weezy

He’s a beast, he’s a dog, he’s a mothafuckin’ problem

Okay, you’re a goon but what’s a goon to a goblin?

Nothing, nothing, you ain’t scaring nothing

On some faggot bullshit, call ’em Dennis Rodman

Call me what you want, bitch, call me on my Sidekick

Never answer when it’s private, damn I hate a shy bitch

Don’t you hate a shy bitch? Yeah, I ate a shy bitch

And she ain’t shy no more, she changed her name to My Bitch

Yeah, nigga, that’s my bitch, so when she ask

For the money when you through, don’t be surprised, bitch

It ain’t trickin’ if you got it

But you like a bitch with no ass: you ain’t got shit

Motherfucka I’m ill, not sick and I’m okay, but my watch sick

Yeah, my drop sick, yeah, my Glock sick, and my knot thick, I’m it

Mothafucka, I’m ill

They say I’m rapping like B.I.G, Jay, and 2Pac

André 3000, where is Erykah Badu at? Who that?

Who that said they gon’ beat Lil’ Wayne?

My name ain’t Bic, but I keep that flame, man

Who that one that do that boy, you knew that, true that, swallow

And I be the shit, now you got loose bowels

I don’t O U like two vowels

But I would like for you to pay me by the hour

And I’d rather be pushing flowers

Than to be in the pen sharing showers

Tony told us this world was ours

And the Bible told us every girl was sour

Don’t play in her garden and don’t smell her flower

Call me Mr. Carter or Mr. Lawn Mower

Boy, I got so many bitches like I’m Mike Lowrey

Even Gwen Stefani said she couldn’t doubt me

Mothafucka, I say life ain’t shit without me

Chrome lips poking out the coupe, look like it’s pouting

I do what I do and you do what you can do about it

Bitch, I can turn a crack rock into a mountain, dare me

Don’t you compare me cause there ain’t nobody near me

They don’t see me but they hear me, they don’t feel me, but they fear me

I’m illy, C3, 3 Peat