Lil Wayne, Blaque & Mannie Fresh – Believe That (feat. Blaqu

Lil Wayne, Blaque & Mannie Fresh – Believe That (feat. Blaque & Mannie Fresh) Lyrics

Believe That

Lil Wayne, Blaque & Mannie Fresh (feat. Blaque & Mannie Fresh)

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"Believe That." - Lil Wayne, Blaque & Mannie Fresh (feat. Blaque & Mannie Fresh)

Sunday, 25 October 2026, 05:16 am

Album: 500 Degreez

Track No: 15

Push Impalas and Caprices (Believe that, daddy)
Starch flat, no creases (Believe that, daddy)
Got that work, you a D boy (Believe that, daddy)
You a H-O-T boy (Believe that, daddy)
Your Bentley got them hoes? (Believe that, daddy)
Does that weed smell in your clothes? (Believe that, daddy)
Bet a hundred, shoot a hundred (Believe that, daddy)
It's my block, I run it (Believe that, daddy)
Got them twenties on your ride (Believe that, daddy)
Croc or gator inside (Believe that, daddy)
Fine bitch, bow leg (Believe that, daddy)
And she go both ways (Believe that, daddy)
Slugged up in the front (Believe that, daddy)
Got a trunk full of bump (Believe that, daddy)
Got cribs, cars, bikes, dykes (Believe that, daddy)
'Cause that's what hoes like (Believe that, daddy)
Now, I do it for the ladies, do it for the ladies
I do it 'cause I wanna push a cat-eye Mercedes
I do it for my dudes, do it for my dudes
All my **** on the block, they got that work to move
It's Weezy, baby, young and from the dirty south
Get up your dope, I'm puttin' birdies out
Like thirty in my mouth so I can say
Fuck you, bitches, still ain't got a dirty mouth
The hood still ain't got over the drought
So you should sleep on your roof just to watch over your house
****, we timin', the cost of my watch over your house
I'm a boss man, I watch over the south
Jazze Pha, let's hop in the Lamby
Stop by Sammy, chill in the hood, you good, you family
My boys like to pull them blammies and big pimp
Mami suck dick till she pull your hammy, homie
You know we only keepin' it gangsta
Deep in a Range, seventeen in a chamber
All I need is my banger, ****, it's Weezy
This shit over, somebody, cue me
Push Impalas and Caprices (Believe that, daddy)
Starch flat, no crease (Believe that, daddy)
Got that work, you a D boy (Believe that, daddy)
You a H-O-T boy (Believe that, daddy)
Your Bentley got them hoes? (Believe that, daddy)
Does that weed smell in your clothes? (Believe that, daddy)
Bet a hundred, shoot a hundred (Believe that, daddy)
It's my block, I run it (Believe that, daddy)
Got them twenties on your ride (Believe that, daddy)
Croc or gator inside (Believe that, daddy)
Fine bitch, bow leg (Believe that, daddy)
And she go both ways (Believe that, daddy)
Slugged up in the front (Believe that, daddy)
Got a trunk full of bump (Believe that, daddy)
Got cribs, cars, bikes, dykes (Believe that, daddy)
'Cause that's what hoes like (Believe that, daddy)
Now, I do it for the ladies, do it for the ladies
I do it 'cause I wanna push a cat-eye Mercedes
I do it for my dudes, do it for my dudes
All my **** on the block, they got that work to move
Yo, you don't wanna play with me, I touch you, man
Loose your man in a tussle, but y'all don't see me
Y'all can't hear me, this a def jam, call me Russell, man
I played on Martin, call me hustle man
And now y'all know, I'm the yayo muscle man
But on the under, I got that wonder to stop that thunder
That rumble in the side of your stomach, piled on water
How do you want it? Come through in a coupe, powder blue
Or high with water, how do you want it, man?
Ay, I towed a lot of toolies, done
I done broke a lot of hoopties, done
I done drove a lot of QP's from
Here and there on the road
For the **** gotta move this, son
And I show you how to do this, son
That the boy, Weezy We, CMB, biatch, and you're stunned
Push Impalas and Caprices (Believe that, daddy)
Starch flat, no crease (Believe that, daddy)
Got that work, you a D boy (Believe that, daddy)
You a H-O-T boy (Believe that, daddy)
Your Bentley got them hoes? (Believe that, daddy)
Does that weed smell in your clothes? (Believe that, daddy)
Bet a hundred, shoot a hundred (Believe that, daddy)
It's my block, I run it (Believe that, daddy)
Got them twenties on your ride (Believe that, daddy)
Croc or gator inside (Believe that, daddy)
Fine bitch, bow leg (Believe that, daddy)
And she go both ways (Believe that, daddy)
Slugged up in the front (Believe that, daddy)
Got a trunk full of bump (Believe that, daddy)
Got cribs, cars, bikes, dykes (Believe that, daddy)
'Cause that's what hoes like (Believe that, daddy)
Now, I do it for the ladies, do it for the ladies
I do it 'cause I wanna push a cat-eye Mercedes
I do it for my dudes, do it for my dudes
All my **** on the block, they got that work to move

Writer(s): P. Alexander, Jazze Pha, Lil Wayne, Mannie Fresh, Blaque.

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