Lil Wayne – 6 Foot 7 Foot (feat. Cory Gunz) Lyrics

6 Foot 7 Foot

Lil Wayne (feat. Cory Gunz)

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"6 Foot 7 Foot." - Lil Wayne (feat. Cory Gunz)

Monday, 26 October 2026, 03:08 pm

Album: Tha Carter IV (Complete Edition)

Track No: 04

Excuse my charisma, vodka with a spritzer
Swagger down pat, call my shit Patricia
Young Money militia and I am the commissioner
You don't wan' start Weezy 'cause the "F" is for finish ya
So misunderstood, but what's a world without enigma?
Two bitches at the same time, synchronized swimmers
Got the girl twisted 'cause she open when you twist her
Never met the bitch, but I fuck her like I missed her
Life is the bitch and death is her sister
Sleep is the cousin, what a fuckin' family picture
You know Father Time, we all know Mother Nature
It's all in the family, but I am of no relation
No matter who's buyin', I'm a celebration
Black and white diamonds, fuck segregation
Fuck that shit, my money up, you **** just Honey Nut
Young Money runnin' shit and you **** just runner-ups
I don't feel I've done enough so I'ma keep on doin' this shit
Lil' Tunechi or Young Tunafish
Ha
Yeah
I'm goin' back in, okay
I lost my mind, it's somewhere out there stranded
I think you stand under me if you don't understand me
Had my heart broken by this woman named Tammy
But hoes gon' be hoes so I couldn't blame Tammy
Just talked to Moms, told her she the sweetest
I beat the beat up, call it self-defense
Swear, man, I be seeing through these **** like sequins
**** think they He-Men, pow, pow, the end
Talkin' to myself because I am my own consultant
Married to the money, fuck the world, that's adultery
You full of shit, you close your mouth and let your ass talk
Young Money eatin', all you haters do is add salt
Stop playin', bitch, I got this game on deadbolt
Mind so sharp, I fuck around and cut my head off
Real **** all day and tomorrow
But these motherfuckers talkin' crazy like they jaw broke
Glass half empty, half full, I'll spill ya
Try me and run into a wall, outfielder
You know I'ma ball till they turn off the field lights
The fruits of my labor, I enjoy 'em while they still ripe
Bitch, stop playin', I do it like a king do
If these **** animals, then I'ma have a mink soon
Tell them bitches I say, "Put my name on the wall"
I speak the truth, but I guess that's a foreign language to y'all
And I call it like I see it and my glasses on
But most of y'all don't get the picture, 'less the flash is on
Satisfied with nothin', you don't know the half of it
Young Money, Cash Money
Uh, paper chaser, tell that paper
Look, I'm right behind ya
Bitch, real G's move in silence like lasagna
People say I'm borderline crazy, sorta, kinda
Woman of my dreams, I don't sleep, so I can't find her
You **** are gelatin, peanuts to an elephant
I got through that sentence like a subject and a predicate
Yeah, with a swag you would kill for
Money too strong, pockets on body builder
Jumped in a wishing well, now wish me well
Tell 'em kiss my ass, call it kiss and tell
Yeah, word to my momma, I'm out of my lima bean
Don't wanna see what that drama mean, get some dramamine
Llama scream, hotter than summer sun on a Ghana queen
Now, all I want is hits, bitch, Wayne signed a fiend
I-I play the side for you **** that's tryna front and see
Son of Gunz, Son of Sam, you **** the Son of me
Pause for this dumber speech, I glow like Buddha
Disturb me and you'll be all over the floor like Luda'
Bitch, I flow like scuba, bitch, I'm bold like Cuba
And I keep a killer ho, she gon' blow right through ya
I be mackin' 'bout my stackin' amount, I pack like a mover
Shout the ratchet for backin' out on behalf of my shooter
**** think they high as I, I come laugh at your ruler
Cash Money cold, bitch, but our actions is cooler
Wayne
These **** out they mind, I done told these fuck **** so many times
That I keep them bucks, steady on my mind
Tuck these, I fuck these on your mind, pause
To feed 'em, on my grind, did I get a little love?
Keep throwin' my sign in the middle
Hit 'em up, piece on my side 'cause ain't no peace on my side
Bitch, I'm a man, I visit urinals with pride
Tune tell me to, I'm shootin' when the funeral outside
I'm Uptown thoroughbred, a BX ****, ya heard, Gunna

Writer(s): D. Carter, Shondrae Crawford, Peter Pankey Jr., William Attaway & Irving Burgie.

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