BM J.R. by Lil Wayne (Ft. Birdman)
BM J.R. by Lil Wayne (Ft. Birdman)

BM J.R.

Lil Wayne & Birdman * Track #4 On Tha Carter

BM J.R. Lyrics

[Intro: Birdman & Lil Wayne]
Yeah, shawty, you know what I'm talkin' about?
Batman
I'm peepin' these niggas out there slippin', lookin' like they ain't 'bout money no more, man, so, what the fuck?
You know what we gon' do huh? What we been doin', huh, nigga
We gon' load up, get a lot more, get a lot more, then say, "Fuck 'em, nigga"
G-Geah!
Keep buyin' shit, keep fuckin' hoes, loadin' up on more bitches
Then, you know what I'm sayin', we gon' get greedy too, nigga
I ain't never gettin' full
I'm full-blooded with this grind
I got it, I got it
Yeah, they don't understand, lil' nigga

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne & Birdman]
Murder capital, only key to survive is "kill" (That's what I'm talkin' 'bout)
If the elements don't murder you, the riders will, for real (Ah, yeah)
And niggas know I go hard to the fullest (Uh-huh)
Get involved and I got 'em playing dodgeball with bullets (Ah-ah)
Yeah, I got the sawed-off fully (C'mon, shawty)
In the Sean John hoodie, get fucked, you play pussy (Pussy-ass n*)
Haha! We hit 'em up while they lookin'
And the body shots hurt, but the headshots took him (That's what I'm talkin' 'bout, boy)
Damn, and if the red dot spot 'em
Then the hollow head got 'em (Those bandannas get chipped, n*)
Knock his top to his bottom jack (Uptown's finest, bitch)
Yeah, you see, we grind from the bottom (CMR, n*)
Just to make it to the bottom at the very bottom of the map (Tell 'em about it, n*)
Lil Weezyana: piranhas everywhere you at (Ah)
You gotta wear your extra condom and a extra gat ([?])
Your bitch can get it for actin' like a man (You under-dig?)
And niggas in Pakistan ain't packin' like your man ([?])
I backwards-hand your man on command
In front of niggas, he cool with them boys on fan (Fredo-ass n*, shawty)
I'm on hot, I adjust in different climates
Ducking the animal keeper, runnin' with my primates (Ha, ha, ha, yeah)
You ain't did it 'til you done it like in five states ([?])
Weezy hustle: no blubber—I put on weight
And in the drought, I go on a diet and stretch more
Lose all that weight, leave a nigga with stretch marks (I see you, n*)
You don't even come up to a nigga chest, paw
Subpar—what the fuck they play that in the club for? (Huh, boy)
Real shit, I'm ducking bombs from a drug war (Ah)
No religion, but the cops swear that I'm a drug lord
Father forgive 'em, for they know not who they pushin', Lord (Yeah, yeah)
Father, forgive me if I have to send 'em to you, Lord
I'm just tryn' dodge the shots they send to the God
They ridin' up "Highway to Heaven Boulevard" (Fuck 'em then, shawty)
Damn, them niggas pussy and jive
Not even in a eye exam—they ain't lookin' for I (Believe that)
The A and the K will make your face crook to the side
Now when you smilin', everybody gotta look from the side (Geah, geah, geah, geah)
'Cause when you wildin', you ain't lookin'—you just lookin' high (Geah, geah, geah)
And when we hungry, you look like pie
Sweet potato-ass nigga, you lemon meringue, apple custard (Sweet-ass, pussy-ass, jive-ass motherfucker)
Cherry jelly, don't make me get the biscuit, buster, yeah!
What up, Gizzle? You my distant brother (Holla, lil' young n*)
Real shit, nigga—same father, different mother (Okay)
I skip the frontin' and stick to keepin' it trill (Fuck 'em, shawty)
You not know me for nothin' other
I'm somethin' other than people, you feel?
I'm deeper, for real
I'm deeper than skills, my speeches can kill—
Rest in peace

[Interlude: Birdman & Lil Wayne]
Yeah, you under-dig, shawty? It's all about one thing nigga
If you 'bout money, nigga, come fuck with us (G-Geah!)
If you ain't 'bout no money, get the fuck from 'round us, nigga
And whatever you 'bout, we 'bout it
However you wan' get it, we can give it to you, nigga (G-Geah)
Ol' lil' bitch
You under-dig? Put your prints in, nigga
Put your feet down and your nuts on the concrete and let's roll
Let me get it back, ayy, ayy
Holla

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne & Birdman]
You sleep in the field for trying the dude
I'll bust your head to the meat (Yeah), turn your mind to food (Okay)
Food for thought—think I ain't lyin' to you (Okay, shawty)
I lie his body in grease, set fire to him (Fuck him, burn him)
I tie his body in sheets, put the tires to him (Bomb, drown him)
Make him feel the Escalade, put his feet in the blades (Ah)
Damn! I'm the heat in the blaze
And niggas keep they ways when I'm in the streets with blade—wha!
My nigga hungry—he'll eat the plate
And if I ask, the homeboy'll eat your face, yeah! (Okay)
And though he got me, you can ask (Yeah)
I'm like a pool table: I keep the eight, haha! (H)
My side pocket sideways (Geah, ah)
When I pop it, leave a nigga sideways for five days (Geah-ah, geah-ah)
Birdman, talk to 'em

[Spoken Word: Birdman & Lil Wayne]
Yeah nigga, I tell em—I'll tell em' again shawty
If it ain't 'bout no money, get the motherfuck from 'round me nigga
Fuck that, I'm comin' back in, ayy, ayy
Clap one of these sissies

[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
Check my swag: I travel like sound, dog
You play hard and I’m gravel like ground, dawg
I'm underground, call me groundhog (Give it to 'em, shawty)
Lay down laws, call me "ground-law"
Don't confuse me with the law, nah
But just confuse me with my pa
Because I am the Birdman J.R. (Brr-rrr-rrr)
I ain't trippin' nigga, I play the corner like Ripken, nigga
With the forty-Cal Ripken, nigga, rip a nigga (Ah)
Flip your vehicle, split your windshield (Yah, yah, yah, yah)
Whack your baby mama, but I'll let the kid live
And people say that I am a kid still
'Cause the lil' nigga still ride on big wheels
You feeling animal then come on and get killed (Yeah)
The SIG peel bandannas like bananas (Yeah)
Say I'm slight bananas I blow a weekend in Havana
In my Cabana wit my bottom bitch from Savannah (Yeah, shawty)
Man, a train couldn't stop your man (Ah)
I man up, and you not a man
I stand up; say, "I got my land"
I'm the man of my land—call it "Lil-Weezy-ana"
That's the new plan, that's the—

[Outro: Birdman]
Yeah, nigga
You 'bout some money? Get at me nigga
That's the only way
Dumb shit, we 'bout that
Get at me, you under-dig?
Nigga roll solo, dolo, nigga

BM J.R. Q&A

Who wrote BM J.R.'s ?

BM J.R. was written by Lil Wayne & Birdman & Mannie Fresh & Batman The Producer.

Who produced BM J.R.'s ?

BM J.R. was produced by Mannie Fresh & Batman The Producer.

When did Lil Wayne release BM J.R.?

Lil Wayne released BM J.R. on Tue Jun 29 2004.

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