Lil Wayne – Oh No Lyrics

Oh No

Lil Wayne

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"Oh No." - Lil Wayne

Monday, 26 October 2026, 07:02 am

Album: Tha Carter, Vol. 2 - Chopped & Screwed

Track No: 06

I play the bullshit from the backseat, champ
Me I'm in the back seat, still got the seat back
Feet back, stay from where the fake be at
**** snitch for the shout, where the patience at?
**** make his own brother face his back
Give love, then take it back
Good grief, man, this world is quite heavy on my aching back
Cops killing for crack
You know the story, snakes eat rats
You know the story, snakes eat rats
You know the story, snakes eat
Fa-face the facts, you can't change 'em, can't shoot it if you can't aim it
Can't miss 'em if he kill you, then you can't blame 'em
That's just how the dice roll when you can't fade 'em
Get too deep up in that water, and they can't save you
Me, I come out of that water like I was just bathin'
And wash my step on the wet pavement
Yeah, I'm from the hood, so I rep 'em where I can't take 'em
Hollygrove, Hollygrove was his last statement
So ****-****, get that look off your face
And recognize you got a crook in the place
W-E-E crooked letter Y
I'm so high, I skeet-skeet in any **** dime like she's mine
Street sweeper in the back of the hatch, make me pop the latch
Bloody-bloody with the cops to match
Bullet holes in your speakers from the chopper blast
Like rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat, ah
As bullet holes in your sneakers got you hoppin' back (ah)
As bullet holes in your sneakers got you hoppin' back (ah)
As bullet holes in your sneakers got you hoppin' back
It all stop when they hit you in your top and back
No cockin' back, si-silly motherfucker, you ain't heard 'bout this
The cli-the clips hang down to the dick
Auto-auto shotty-shotty drum they drum they tommy-tommy
Guaranteed to get you bitches from by me
When I hit every piece of your visible body
He leakin', Mortimer is no longer leapin'
He sleep, while you, while you pussy **** is sleepin', I'm thinkin'
Deep in thought, the boy ain't even winkin'
Bob Marley got me stinkin'
Stack-stackin' figures, stan-standin' firm, life's a slinky
Pipes is filled with crack cocaine
And the dope go inside of the veins from where-where I came
Though I bear a name only one can live with
Coach, they won't knock me off my pivot, forget it
I'm sicker with it, pick a city, buy a condo
Find a fine ho, let some time go, chill
What you know about a bongo, havin' her mind go
Over a convo about dough, nothin'
Man, the four-wheelers look so good on the sand
She a-she a tank top pocket fan
No-no pocket knife, no handgun in sight
Just that rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat, boom
Tonight, I might just boost my feature price
'Cause to each his own, and the lights is bright
I'm feelin'-feelin' like Mike at a Tyson fight
I'm from Cita house, Big Mama's house
She told me to shoot you right after I knock you out
And he ain't gettin' up after them
Shots if you hit him in the right spot
Hold up, the beat might

Writer(s): D. Carter, R. Ferebee & Matlock.

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