I Can’t Feel My Face

[Verse: Juelz Santana]
Face numb, taste some
Fiends come back for this here
Grade A, A1
And one like the ball players
Everything I cook come back and some
I'm a boss player
I cook good make it look good, damn straight
Put coke in the pot, take out pancakes
Double stacks, triple stacks, why not?
I got that syrup too, just call me iHop
Yes, I been involved with killas
You know, cold hearted niggas, narcotic dealers
Yes, you ever seen a chick straight from Colombia
Shit dope out, clean it, taste it in front of ya
But the dope flow was slow in my area
The coke flow was woah in my area
And woah meant dough in my area
You know I sold that woah like woah in my area, woah
(?), po po in my area
Gotta get low from my area
What I do? I gave a chick a BBT
A brick and a bus ticket then she meets me (where?)
New town, same plan, shut it down
New grounds, same land Columbus found
American dreams, American fiends
I got to get money by any American means
Now that's an American Idol
Hustla, soldier bearing his rifle when the wars on
Well the wars on, call off backup
'Fore all y'all wind up all gone
BLOCKA! The four long leave big holes
The size of windows doctors can't stitch closed
I get this cake, get it straight
I pick up 2 bricks a day that's what I call lifting weights
All while tryna dodge prison gates
I refuse to get caught be a number of the state
I'm trynna have a number every state
And a place I can lay when I come through every state
I'm straight
Got it down packed, pack down shorty
You late, still using that black ground coffee
My car smelling like mustard
That ain't what I ate boy that's just how I smuggle it
Buss it
Got 2 bricks in the front, 2 bricks in the back
Thats four bricks riding with me in this Cadillac
But, I'm more of an out of town nigga
Long as I know some out of town niggas I'm good there
Yea, I don't wait for paper I locate the paper
Then go chase the paper, there I go
Stay focused every place I'm strapped in
Cause niggas get killed for delayed reactions
So one late reaction you'll be laid and packed in
That casket, the wake’s on friday

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Get it, I got it, I know what to do with it
Put it on the stove and make two of it
Hit me on the low the snakes movin’ through the grass
I’m ridin’ with a kilo, a Uzi and a mask
Doobie full of hash, rollin’ like ?
I might fuck her twice then she’ll leave like trees
Since I’m on my feet, them hoes on they knees
Cheddar not Swiss, ain’t no holes in my cheese
Come through in a buggy on them hoes on threes, nigga
I wear the .44 like Lee’s, nigga
Swagger so cold I’ma freeze these niggas
I hustle with the mob and I eat with killers
Bitch get bread, we gotta be fed, or we put ya on ya ass, give the boy a street bed
Like today’s the last, we on the grizz-ind
You know what time it is, it’s all about this time
Long body Maybach hoe, like I’m 6’9”
You niggas ain’t riders, so I’ma let ya bitch ride
Hard exterior—pussy on the inside
Hey little sharkie, you can get fish-fried
You can get pig-tied, to the bumper of the truck, put it in drive (gone!)
Haha
You fuck boy faggot, check my jacket, boy I been gettin’ money like federal taxes, haha
I never relax, I‘d rather get stacks, they say money ain’t everything but I look better with that
Bitch
They better get back, I’m tellin’ ‘em that, I won’t -
Tell ‘em again, next time it’d be “BRAAT”
Haha
To ya hat, how you like that?
Elz, they face might crack
Ugh!