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Warning Video (MV)




Performed By: Lil Eazzyy
Length: 2:23
Written by: Eric Allen




Lil Eazzyy - Warning Lyrics
Official




Go
Sleeze Money, uh
Yeah
Still in this bitch cappin' with Dan, you know? (Go)
Yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh (let's do it)

Sleeze Money, you know we been winnin' (yeah)
Throwin' them bullets, but no, we ain't pitchin' (baow-baow)
Since a toddler, you know I been sippin'
F*ckin' that bitch, like some sauce, yeah, I'm dippin'
Perc' in the chronic and it got me itchin' (yeah)
Hit the gas in the Demon, I'm driftin'
The f*ck make you think that I'm needin' assistance?
You still ask your homies if they can go chip in (let's go)
White and black diamonds got my jewelry blendin'
Need the load, then you know that I'm sendin'
All of your moves, why do they still be pendin'?
She don't like suckin' the dick? Yeah, I'm endin'
F*ck around, let all her friends in
Talkin' 'bout shit that I do, now I'm trendin'
Glocks, TECs, MACs, Smith & Wesson (let's do it)
You know that the Glock is my best friend
At the wedding, you know that I'm best man
Dumpin' out shots, we get fouled, bring the ref in
On the pull up, ain't doin' that textin'
You can get knocked off for doin' that sextin'
Clips, whips, necklace
I know a killer stack bodies like Tetris
So you better count all your blessings
Ain't f*ckin' with niggas, a hand, I ain't lendin'
All of that cappin' and fu' shit really start pissin' me off
Grabbin' the sack and I run, Randy Moss
Don't make us start pickin' you off
The shit you been savin' to get, yeah, I bought
You innocent 'til you get caught (yeah)
Unless you a rat
You know my niggas not familiar with that (we not)
I made your rent off of flippin' the packs
Time movin' too fast, so I'm sippin' the Act'
I don't think you was really out there sellin' crack
Man, these niggas ain't livin' like that
Flew to Cali, I ain't goin' back (I'm not)
Touch so much money, I ain't keepin' track (yeah)
We was doin' them hits off the app
Sleeze Money, they touchin' more stacks than your dad (your dad, bitch)
You know that my niggas been stackin'
You niggas be scratchin' the surface, but ain't keepin' traction
Hit from the back, it's a whole lot of action
Screamin' loud noise, Toni Braxton
Just grabbed the load and it's massive
Don't ask for a fee, 'cause you know that I'm taxin'
Runtz in my 'Wood, and you know I ain't passin'
I'm feelin' like Keef, hit the Turbo and that's it (skrrt-skrrt)
Actin' an ass, ridin' 'round Laurel Canyon
Back up, lil' bitch, no, you not my companion
Say he totin' that heat, well, you know that I'm tannin'
Callin' plays, I feel like Peyton Manning (yeah)
No Lasko, you know that I'm fannin'
So you know that my diamonds be cool
Drippin' that sauce like I stepped out a pool
All of my bitches be freaky and rude
Like a janitor, stay with a tool
Off a Perky, I get in my mood
Touchin' my Wocky, put you on the news
Man, I never even heard of this dude
Back in my hood, they callin' me the truth
'Fit costin' a fifty, I'm just in the booth
I'm fresh to death in Canadian Goose
I ain't f*ckin' with one, man, I need about two bitches, uh

Yeah, I need about two bitches, uh
Nigga, give you 'bout two stitches, nigga, uh
And your boo listen, uh, yeah, uh, uh
Two Smith &'s
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


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Go
Sleeze Money, uh
Yeah
Still in this bitch cappin' with Dan, you know? (Go)
Yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh (let's do it)

Sleeze Money, you know we been winnin' (yeah)
Throwin' them bullets, but no, we ain't pitchin' (baow-baow)
Since a toddler, you know I been sippin'
F*ckin' that bitch, like some sauce, yeah, I'm dippin'
Perc' in the chronic and it got me itchin' (yeah)
Hit the gas in the Demon, I'm driftin'
The f*ck make you think that I'm needin' assistance?
You still ask your homies if they can go chip in (let's go)
White and black diamonds got my jewelry blendin'
Need the load, then you know that I'm sendin'
All of your moves, why do they still be pendin'?
She don't like suckin' the dick? Yeah, I'm endin'
F*ck around, let all her friends in
Talkin' 'bout shit that I do, now I'm trendin'
Glocks, TECs, MACs, Smith & Wesson (let's do it)
You know that the Glock is my best friend
At the wedding, you know that I'm best man
Dumpin' out shots, we get fouled, bring the ref in
On the pull up, ain't doin' that textin'
You can get knocked off for doin' that sextin'
Clips, whips, necklace
I know a killer stack bodies like Tetris
So you better count all your blessings
Ain't f*ckin' with niggas, a hand, I ain't lendin'
All of that cappin' and fu' shit really start pissin' me off
Grabbin' the sack and I run, Randy Moss
Don't make us start pickin' you off
The shit you been savin' to get, yeah, I bought
You innocent 'til you get caught (yeah)
Unless you a rat
You know my niggas not familiar with that (we not)
I made your rent off of flippin' the packs
Time movin' too fast, so I'm sippin' the Act'
I don't think you was really out there sellin' crack
Man, these niggas ain't livin' like that
Flew to Cali, I ain't goin' back (I'm not)
Touch so much money, I ain't keepin' track (yeah)
We was doin' them hits off the app
Sleeze Money, they touchin' more stacks than your dad (your dad, bitch)
You know that my niggas been stackin'
You niggas be scratchin' the surface, but ain't keepin' traction
Hit from the back, it's a whole lot of action
Screamin' loud noise, Toni Braxton
Just grabbed the load and it's massive
Don't ask for a fee, 'cause you know that I'm taxin'
Runtz in my 'Wood, and you know I ain't passin'
I'm feelin' like Keef, hit the Turbo and that's it (skrrt-skrrt)
Actin' an ass, ridin' 'round Laurel Canyon
Back up, lil' bitch, no, you not my companion
Say he totin' that heat, well, you know that I'm tannin'
Callin' plays, I feel like Peyton Manning (yeah)
No Lasko, you know that I'm fannin'
So you know that my diamonds be cool
Drippin' that sauce like I stepped out a pool
All of my bitches be freaky and rude
Like a janitor, stay with a tool
Off a Perky, I get in my mood
Touchin' my Wocky, put you on the news
Man, I never even heard of this dude
Back in my hood, they callin' me the truth
'Fit costin' a fifty, I'm just in the booth
I'm fresh to death in Canadian Goose
I ain't f*ckin' with one, man, I need about two bitches, uh

Yeah, I need about two bitches, uh
Nigga, give you 'bout two stitches, nigga, uh
And your boo listen, uh, yeah, uh, uh
Two Smith &'s
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Eric Allen
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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