Stomp Follow

This song right here, is dedicated to the president of the United States of America

Y'all might know him as George Bush

But where I'm from, lost city of New Orleans... we call him this

[Ray Charles sample:] Georgia.........

Noooowww

This song is dedicated to the one wit the suit

Thick white skin and his eyes bright blue

So called beef wit you know who

Fuck it he just let him kill all of our troops

Look at the bullshit we been through

Had the niggas sitting on top they roofs

Hurricane Katrina, we shoulda called it Hurricane (Geeoorrggiaa) Bush

Then they telling y'all lies on the news

The white people smiling like everything cool

But I know people that died in that pool

I know people that died in them schools

Now what is the survivor to do?

Got to no trailer, you gotta move

Now it's on to Texas and to (Geeoorrggiiaa)

They tell you what they want, show you what they want you to see

But they don't let you know what's really going on

Make it look like a lotta stealing going on

Boy them cops is killas in my home

Nigga shot dead in the middle of the street

I ain't no thief, I'm just trying to eat

Man fuck the police and president (Geeoorrrggiiaa) Bush

So what happened to the levees, why wasn't they steady

Why wasn't they able to control this?

I know some fok' that live by the levee

that keep on telling me they heard the explosions

Same shit happened back in Hurricane Betsy

1965, I ain't too young to know this

That was President Johnson but now

but it's president (Geeoorrggiiaa) Bush

[Chorus - 2X]

We from a town where (Georgia)

Everybody drowned, and

Everybody died, but baby I'm still praying which ya

Everybody crying but (Georgia)

Ain't nobody tried, there's no doubt on my mind it was (Georgia) Bush

Noooowwww

I was born in the boot at the bottom of the map

New Orleans baby, now the white house hating, trying to wash away like we not on the map

Wait, have you heard the latest, they saying you gotta have paper if you trying to come back

Niggas thinking it's a wrap, see we can't hustle in they trap, we ain't from (Geeoorrggiaa)

Noooww it's them dead bodies, them lost houses, the mayor say don't worry 'bout it

And the children have been scarred, no one's here to care 'bout 'em

And fash out, to all the rappers that helped out

Yea we like it they calling y'all, but fuck president (Geeoorrggiaa) Bush

We see them Confederate flags, you know what it is

A white cracker muthafucka that probably voted for him

And no he ain't gonna drop no dollas, but he do drop bombs

R.I.P. Tay cuz he died in the storm, fuck president (Geeoorrggiiaa) Bush

See us in ya city man, give us a pound

Cuz if a nigga still moving then he holding it down

I had two Jags, but I lost both them bi-tch-es

I'm from N.O. the N.O. Yea!

[Chorus]

([DJ Drama:] oh yea, you thought we was done? Naw)

YEA!

Money money money get a dollar and a dick

Weezy Baby that crack, muthafucka get a fix

Got money out the ass, no homo but I'm rich

Bout to go get surgery and put some diamonds on my wrist YES

Yep, I'm a muthafucking trip

I'ma trip to Japan and buy some brand new shit

Nine hundred to a grand, get you twenty eight grams

If you talking 'bout bricks, I'm the interstate man

And the women say damn, them niggas don't say a damn thing

Boy I bet that shotty make you bounce like a bed-spring

Walkin a thin line, gotta defend mine

And wit no pen I'm sorta like a bomb BOOM

Young toon, yea that's what my people call me

Fifty thousand for the cause, trying keep the reaper off me

I drink a lotta syrup, bitches say I'm sleep walkin

Big money for the grill, so I'm never cheap talking, yea

Keep talking and the flame leap off the hip

And keep sparking, pap pap sleep softly

Yea, nap nap, nap sack, three forties

Like fuck another nigga, nigga just don't be da target

Young New Orleans nigga, nigga just don't be retarded

We done lost everything and you looking like a bargain

Purple weed, purple drink, purple heart sergeant

I'm the best rapper in the game no arguing (arguing)

And I don't ever write, pause

Un-pause this, so keep ya bitch ass lines inside the margin

Lil Wayne dot com bitch log in

Put a pillow under your knees and keep ya jaws in

All in ya girl mouth, use her like a toilet

They usually want a baller and the young nigga balling

Mike Jordan, pardon my swag

Even my father rich as fuck and all my brothers left the family

We said fuck it bought two houses in Miami

I can't wait to do cribs, MTV c'mon get at me

Any rapper wan get at me, tell ya label contact me

Half four hundred for a feature, wanna battle, I'll beat ya

I'm a beast, I'm a preacher, I'm the son of miss cita

Mom dukes, my jeter, she the reason, she the reason

Everybody woman wanna beat a boy diva, not even

There's a 305 dime I wanted ever since I seen her

Got a topic of this evening, hotter than a tub steaming

Gotcha girlfriend dreaming of one day being Trina

Notta sim seemer, ten ki's in the Beamer

Got a white girl driving, couldn't do it much cleaner

I'm fly in the sky like that muthafuckin ribbon

Bitches got my name on em, and the nigga still living

Spend a condo and a club, one bottle won't do

Two bottles won't do, bottles for the whole crew, thanks

And bring me that Patrone, I don't play

No ice I like my drink straight, not gay

And bitch that bank come everyday, I'm paid

I wish a nigga come invade, get sprayed

I stomp a nigga out like I got ten legs

Then they fish the nigga up out the lake in ten days

Behave, no ho, I'm on that Rage Rov

Cash Money, Young Money, ho that money age old

And can't a cage hold this animal from Hollygrove

Sorry mami I be stoned, I be, I be, I be blowed

Got me copy rock star, Weezy Baby fuck these hos

Gotta pay me now for me to even take these hos

Price sizing for a show and the flow

So either Drama is my nigga, or that boy got doe

Go figure that's my nigga, that's my nigga, my nerve