Lil Wayne – I Don't Like the Look of It (feat. Gudda Gudda)

Lil Wayne – I Don't Like the Look of It (feat. Gudda Gudda) Lyrics

I Don't Like the Look of It

Lil Wayne (feat. Gudda Gudda)

Lyrics copied!

"I Don't Like the Look of It." - Lil Wayne (feat. Gudda Gudda)

Saturday, 24 October 2026, 08:14 pm

Album: I Am Not a Human Being

Track No: 13

I don't like the look of it
I don't like the look of it
I don't
Okay, I'm sippin' on the syrup
Got a **** movin' slow
I'm all about the money, what the fuck you think I do it for?
Bitch, don't act like you don't know
I'm killin' all these rap ****
Custom made casket for yo' motherfuckin' funeral
Keep the women with me, shit, I gotta keep like two or more
Party everyday like we won the fuckin' Super Bowl
Chillin' with my **** Mac, he keep bitches handy
White girl on the table, let 'em sniff the nose candy
When I'm walkin' by the women sayin' "Who is that ****?"
I replied, "Hi, I am Gudda Gudda, that ****"
I was raised in the home of the cap splitters
Whip on 24's, watch it crawl like a caterpiller
I come with a toy, boy, like a Happy Meal
And you's a motherfuckin' duck, Daffy Dill
I'm from the school of hard knocks where we scrap and kill
Pick the knife or gun and you can get the package deal
I'm hot, ****, burnin' everything around me
I was lost for a minute, took a while, but I found me
The streets say I'm king, but the game'll never crown me
Realest **** doin' it, just ask the **** round me
So you can't size me up or try to clown a
Shark in the water, jump in and I'ma drown ya
New Orleans ****, gun out, I'ma down ya
Put **** to sleep like a motherfuckin' downer
I'm a great white, you's a flounder
Fish and a bitch, I tuna everything around ya
U-Haul Gudder, movin' everything around ya
It's Young Money, bitch, at the top is where they found us, ****
Uh, goons on deck, Marley don't shoot 'em
Silence on the gun, watch a **** mute 'em
The coach in the booth, call me Jon Gruden
School these ****, they all my students
All jokes aside, I ain't playin' with ya
The weed broke down like a transmission
The chopper spin around, like a ballerina
Bitch, I'm still spittin' like I ate a jalapeno
I'm from uptown, my bitch from Argentina
My pockets on fat like Joey Cartagena
Stunt so hard, it's all y'all fault
And when it come to beef, give me A1 Sauce
I ain't worryin' about shit, everything paid out
You could catch me court side in Dwayne Wade house
With a high, yellow, thick bitch with her legs out
Cash Money president, but we in a red house
Who the fuck want it? Make my fuckin' day
I blow your candles out, now, ****, cut the cake
I gotta eat, bitch, like a runaway
Y'all **** ain't eatin', stomach ache
Okay, all these bitches and **** still hatin'
I used to be ballin', but now I'm Bill Gate-in'
Fuckin' with my iPhone, bumpin' Illmatic
I'm on the road to riches, there's just a little traffic
Hair still platted, thuggin' is a habit
Keep my guitar, hip hop Lenny Kravitz
Bunch of bad bitches and I fuck 'em like rabbits
Dope dick Weezy, ya girlfriend an addict, uh
I don't like the look of it

Writer(s): D. Carter, Carl Lilly & R. Cobbs II.

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