Juelz Santana
Black Republicans
[Intro: Lil Wayne & Juelz Santana]
*Pfff...*
Now, this is what they've been waiting for
Yeah, yessir
Ya dig?
Ya dig?
Santana!
Weezy F!
Ayy!
Haha!
Ayy, Wayne
What up, man?
What you been working on, n***a?
Oh, you know, I got Curren$y new album, and—and quietly working on my album, ya dig?
Oh, I'm ready to brush my shoulders off and drop my next album too, n***a
That's what it is!
But dig this
Hmm?
They wanna know what we been working on together
Yeah, yeah, that's that "I Can't Feel My Face Shit," they know that there
Yeah, you know
They know what it is
So if they ever thought the South and the North was gonna collide
That's what they thinking!
Guess what? We already did
Already! Go!
[Verse 1: Juelz Santana]
I'm feeling like a Black Republican, naw, I can't call it
More like a Black Democrat runnin' 'em out of office (Get out)
Young Barack-a Obama, I'm all for it
The Rock of Gibraltar has now fallen on you
I protect my land like a farmer
Pockets stay chubby like Toccara (Yup), huh
Or should I say fat like the Parkers
Tote big guns like I'm still playing Contra (Ha)
Y'all washed up like money that's laundered (Yeah)
Y'all funny, I'm bonkers
Honest, girls strapped to my dick like a harness
Rockstar, I'm flyer than an ostrich (Ha)
And I cover east, west, north, south like a compass
I shall shine forever, never tarnish (Never)
Money buried behind my house like a garden (What?)
All green, my bank account's like a forest
I Can't Feel My Face is gettin' started (Yeah)
And Weezy is my accomplice (Ya dig?)
A Black activist like Sonny Carson
Stripes of a sergeant, salute me
And chicks, I get 'em high, higher than turbulences
White Phantom, lookin' so Fergalicious (Haha)
I'm from the city of big drugs and murder victims
It's get rich, go to jail, or be a murder victim
Ayy! Now all y'all listen
If you can't take the heat, get out the kitchen
[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
I feel like a Black Republican, tote the MAC in the public
And act so southern and die for my brethren
Money, money-money, like Money Mackin' Publishing
One life to live, never ask for a mulligan
Streets cold, but the heat make me feel covenant
Been had cake, you late like Ed Sullivan
Fly like an eagle, but no, I'm not Donovan
Boy, you better go eat some soup with your mama 'nem
And my mind is on another continent
I am real Cash Money, no counterfeit
I don't parking-lot pimp, I just politick
But I get all in her mouth like Polident
New Orleans representer to the inner
Come from the city where the glitter don't glimmer
The sun don't shine, and the guns don't sleep
Wake a n***a ass up like he got somewhere to be

[Outro: Lil Wayne & Juelz Santana]
Ya dig?
Ayy!
And we wanna let the world know
This is not a diss song either, people
Uh-uh, uh-uh
We don't diss them, we dismiss them
Ya dig? Haha
Recognize or step aside
Yeah!
Ya dig?
Hahaha
We let the music talk
Drought 3! Hahaha
And by the way
What?
It's Santana
It's Weezy!
I'm back
Yeah
You dudes gotta stand in the mirror backwards cause you can't face yourself
Assholes
DipSet for life
Cash Money
Cash Money, what up!
Young Money, Skull Gang
Mill!