The Best Lil Wayne Guest Verses of All Time

Lil Wayne ain’t your average MC. He started with the Hot Boys, puttin’ Cash Money on the map. Back in ’99, he dropped “Tha Block Is Hot,” showin’ he had the skills. But it was in the mid-2000s that Weezy exploded, droppin’ fire features left and right. Dude hopped on tracks with everyone – Rick Ross, T.I., Destiny’s Child, Trina, you name it. That’s how he became the biggest rapper in the world, plain and simple.

The most amazing thing, however, is that Wayne is still keeping up his legendary features run. It was only last year that he jumped on tracks with the likes of Westside Gunn and Tyler, the Creator, and showed the hip hop world, who was truly the greatest guest rapper of all time.

From Playaz Circle’s “Duffle Bag Boy” to Rick Ross’ “Maybach Music 2” to to DJ Khaled’s “We Takin’ Over”, here our fans rank the best Lil Wayne guest verses of all time.

Album: We the Best

Released: March 27, 2007

Producer: Danja

Ah, I am the beast Feed me rappers or feed me beats I’m untamed, I need a leash I’m insane, I need a shrink I love brain, I need a leech Why complain on Easy Street? I don’t even talk, I let the Visa speak And I like my Sprite Easter pink And my wrist-wear Chopard but the Müller’s cooler I have more jewels than your jeweler Touch and I will bust your medulla That’s a bullethole, it is not a tumor Red light, red light, stop your rumors I stay on track like a box of Pumas Now just r-r-rock with Junior I am the little big kahuna, y’dig?

Album: Idlewild

Released: August 22, 2006

Producer: André 3000

And I’m a star Yea, and I don’t have to go to Hollywood ‘Cause Hollywood come through my neighborhood with cameras on I really think they’re stealing from us like a sample song I really wish one day we’d take it back like hammers home The hurricane come and took my Louisiana home And all I got in return was a darn country song This whole country wrong Oh, but you right if you just put a little ice on And cut your mic on but you don’t even write songs But Hollywood make you spit like a python, I meant Cobra I’m so not sober, I’m high like a Hollywood Coffee or soda, you can call me a roller Hold up, your grill’s glistenin’ Spent a hundred thousand on mine to feel different What’s the real sense of it? Bling bling, I know and did you know I’m the creator of the term, I just straightened the perm They let it sit too long, they just makin’ it burn Make a movie of our lifestyle, but they earn Like a dead body burned on the mantle piece That’s why I try not to lie on wax like this candle grease And I be’s the little nigga, cooler than anti-freeze Defrost on your window pane – Lil Wayne But in Hollywood it’s Litt-le Wayne, don’t make me none So that’s why I got a pre-nup I do

Album: Paper Trail

Released: September 9, 2008

Producer: Kanye West, Mike Caren (add.)

No one on the corner has swagger like moi Church, but I’m too clean for the choir I require what I desire I got stripes, Adidas Mami scream “¡Papí, no más!” Run up in your shit, just me, no más Runnin’ this shit like I got four thighs No one has swagger like these four guys Now when it comes to styles, I got several Sharper than the swag or dagger all metal And my jewels blue and yellow The type of shit that make ’em call you Carmelo Rules as follows: stay true to the ghetto Write your name on the bullet, make you feel special Ha! What the fuck you boys talkin’ ’bout? I know it’s us, ’cause we the only thing to talk about

Album: Deeper Than Rap

Released: May 19, 2009

Producer: J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League

All-black Maybach, I’m sittin’ in the asshole Classy as a mother, still gutter like a bad bowl Benjamin Franklin on X how that cash roll That’s right, them mils do, like damp clothes I eat your meal, too, we don’t feel you And we be strapping up like the Navy SEAL do Sweet as banana-split every time I peel through Fresher than Will Smith and Uncle Phil too Watching TV in the Maybach in traffic I’m on my feet like Tough-Actin’ Tinactin I’m running this shit, you should try tackling Lil Wayne in one word? Immaculate You see the Biggie, see the Jay, the 2Pac in him The Kurt Cobain, the Andre Three Stacks And then I’m back to doin’ shit like I do’s it Maybach Music!

Album: Supply & Demand

Released: May 1, 2007

Producer: M16

If I don’t do nothin’, I’ma ball I’m countin’ all day like the clock on the wall Now go and get your money, little duffle bag boy Said go and get your money, little duffle bag boy Get money I ain’t never ran from a nigga And I damn sure ain’t ’bout to pick today to start runnin’ Look, honey I ain’t never ran from a nigga And I damn sure ain’t ’bout to pick today to start runnin’ Get money

Album: 400 Degreez

Released: June 11, 1999

Producer: Mannie Fresh

Now-now-now-now-now after you back it up then stop Then wha-wha-what, drop-drop it like it’s hot Now after you back it up then stop Now wha-wha-wha-what, drop it like it’s hot Now drop it like it’s hot, drop-drop it like it’s hot C-M-B make you drop it like it’s hot Drop it like it’s hot, drop-drop it like it’s hot Drop it like it’s hot, drop-drop it like it’s hot Ha!

Album: Thank Me Later

Released: June 1, 2010

Producer: Boi-1da, 40

Ooh, shit, motherfucker, God damn Kickin’ bitches out the condo like Pam Gettin’ money every day, I’m a groundhog ‘Bout to scoop ya girl up like a ground ball I walk light so I don’t piss the ground off Man, I swear, my bitches do it ’til they suck the brown off Ew, that’s nasty Yes, I am Weezy but I ain’t asthmatic James Bond cologne, honey I put on Make ’em run and tell they friends like a marathon Voice baritone, haters carry on Beat the pussy up, call me Larry Holmes Young Money’s Jerry Sloan, I turn every stone When she masturbate to me, that’s how she learn every song To the women I condone, better write me when I’m gone No, I’m not that thuggish, not that ruggish but I do pack Bone Uh, I’m a love machine And I won’t work for nobody but you It’s only me and her ’cause the Bugatti a coupe It’s Blood gang, slime, but I parlay with Snoop I ain’t lyin’, I shoot, you don’t need signs for proof Turn you to a vegetable like you lyin’ in soup And when I’m in the booth, bitch, the lion is loose Man, I got so many styles, I am a group Ha ha, damn! I’ll be gone ’til November But fuck it, I ain’t trippin’, I know Drizzy gon’ kill ’em I’m stickin’ to the script like lint on denim Momma said “If the rules ain’t bent, don’t bend ’em” Real nigga talkin’ – shut the fuck up, ho! Gotta do it one time for Haiti – what up, Zo? Weezy F. Baby and the F is for Front Do’ ‘Cause that’s where I brang it Soo-woo if you bangin’, motherfucker!

Album: More than a Game (soundtrack)

Released: August 27, 2009

Producer: Boi-1da

Okay, hello, it’s the Martian, Space Jam Jordans I want this shit forever, wake up and smell the garden Fresher than the harvest, step up to the target If I had one guess, then I guess I’m just New Orleans And I will never stop like I’m runnin’ from the cops Hop up in my car and told my chauffeur, “To the top” Life is such a fuckin’ roller coaster, then it drops But what should I scream for? This is my theme park My mind shine even when my thoughts seem dark Pistol on my side, you don’t wanna hear that thing talk Let the king talk, check the price and pay attention Lil Wayne, that’s what they gotta say or mention I’m like Nevada in the middle of the summer I’m restin’ in the lead, I need a pillow and a cover Shh, my foot’s sleepin’ on the gas No brake pads, no such thing as last, uh

Album: All 6’s and 7’s

Released: June 7, 2011

Producer: Seven

Uh, now put the pussy on my lip and dip Yeah, let’s make a movie, I’ma flip the script Yeah, I wax that ass like a q-tip Yeah, float in that pussy like a cruise ship Uh, ’cause I’m a nasty motherfucker Yeah, I eat that pussy like the last supper Yeah, I beat that pussy like brass knuckles Heh, she call me daddy and she scream “Uncle” Open up and spread, I’m pullin’ her hair, she pullin’ my dreads I’m breakin’ her off, we breakin’ the bed Fuck her like a dog, she shakin’ her leg I’m killin’ it soft, I’m makin’ it red I’m makin’ her talk, I’m makin’ her beg I’m makin’ her crawl, I’m makin’ her run I’m makin’ it numb, I’m makin’ it cum, I am Young Weezy F. Baby She wish she could make a copy of my dick and save it (Ha-ha) Now close your mouth, don’t waste it I got that fuck food, baby, come taste it Tunechi!

Album: Call Me If You Get Lost

Released: June 25, 2021

Producer: Tyler, the Creator

Excuse me, pardon me, the wind, it blow so hard at me Like mother nature arguing about some baby father beef And I’m stuck in the middle of the sandwich like slaughter meat Got my middle fingers to the cameras that’s recording me From y’all to me, brrt, stop callin’ me unless you’re ordering I’m on the beach, I got my feet out, and I stay on my feet The corner beat, I’m on a deep route, just throw the ball to me Thought all this lean would have me senile, I guess they see now Let’s touch down, catch a beat-down like I catch touchdowns I fuck ’round and slow the beat down and take the drums out And speed up my flow, I’m so greedy, I’ma eat my own flow And I’m in need of a flow, might eat me a rapper and I might as well eat me a ho (Oh) I’m hot as hell when the weather is freezin’, as cold as the devil and demon and ghost I’ma get even and even, get even some more, it’s too late to even get low, baow Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang, that’s what I need you to know, Mula, Weezy the G.O.A.T. The wind beneath my wings, Desert Eagle underneath my coat Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, Mula (Bitch)

Album: Beam Me Up Scotty 

Released: May 14, 2021

Producer: GOVI & Kid Masterpiece

I’ma pull up so lit, I just might crash, dawg Let me take this Balenciaga mask off to ask y’all, “Who asked y’all?” Cita told me to stunt my ass off, that’s all Bop-bop-bop-bop-bop, he was a good cat, my bad, dawg Don’t put no K after that B-Boy, “Bad kall,” that’s flag talk Fuck around and knock your flag off, I had to I wore a Gat’ before a tattoo, I had to As a matter of fact, I had two No cap, I’m on them capsules, I done relapsed, boo But I been on my feet since Cinderella lost her glass shoe The cash blue, but I’m still seein’ green I’m in the bathroom, and I’m peein’ lean My bitch a vacuum I told her, “Keep me clean,” the scene serene I’m a badonkadonk and bikini fiend I just need a queen that ain’t scared to fuck a Stephen King I used to live next door to Drake and Momma Dee And Lisa Dee on Eagle Street How I go from bars on the screen door to the TV screen? Don’t ask me, but never change the channel Gucci flannel, Gucci socks, Gucci sandals Gucci teddy bears, and pandas, not fake Propaganda ’bout to blow out the candle My lil’ ho out Atlanta, got a ho out Atlanta With a ho out Atlanta, she a ho out Atlanta We get it, it’s the same in each city My bitch dance better than P. Diddy’s And ever since the pandemic They don’t wanna let Drake out of Canada I been screamin’, “Free Drizzy” I know bae trust my vision but don’t want me to see prison Said, “I can’t make no promises, either leave or come visit But leave the keys to your heart next to your soul and your spirit” Some see graffiti as art, some could see hoes to be women But I’m the greediest shark amongst an ocean of killers I put you six feet deep, I’m bein’ socially distant Nina Ross on the hip, the .44 is my mistress Extra shots, extra clips, ain’t talkin’ videos nor vixens Just come and see about it, bitch Tunechi

Album: Me, Myself & I

Released: October 31, 2006

Producer: Scott Storch

Yeah, I’m in this bitch with the Terror Got a hand full of stacks, better grab an umbrella I make it rain, I make it rain (oh!) I’m in this bitch with the Terror Got a handful of stacks, better grab an umbrella I make it rain, I make it rain (oh!) make it rain on them hoes I make it rain, I make it rain (oh!) I make it rain on them hoes I make it rain, I make it rain (oh!) I make it rain on them hoes I make it rain, I make it rain (oh!) I make it rain on them hoes Oww!

Album: AT.LONG.LAST.A$AP

Released: May 26, 2015

Producer: Da Honorable C.N.O.T.E., Mike Dean

Money talk and dogs bark I got a pocket full of stones in my stonewashed Lambo, brand new Lambo With tiger stripes on it call that bitch a golf cart I’m outchea, I’m so outchea, I swear niggas have no idea I swear niggas better wear riot gear Cause I appear and pow loud and clear give ’em diarrhea, oh I re-up tonight, I’ma be up tonight, cookin’ a key up tonight Niggas de-up I slide to the right, throw a three up in time Put a B up, let’s fight, don’t get beat up tonight Feet up in my European, I ride with me heater inside Kill you and your dog then go put on a shirt that say PETA for life Like you sneeze you on tight, you got beef I got white You got beef I got white, I got green, I got white I got pink, I got pints, I got lean, I got ice I got needles and pipes, I got clean, I got right I got mean, I got nice, that’s that Tina and Ike I don’t lean on her price, I don’t cheat on her price Try to cheat on the dice, you get beat on the spot I get keys on the spot and I keep it on lock And I keep it up safe, what you keep in your safe? S’what I spent on my watch and I wave it like Ma$e Bout to redo the face, get a see-through AK I eat seafood and steak But girl, I’ma treat you like cake til I get a sweet tooth tooth ache But wait let’s talk about M’s, not about them I love my BM’s, I love my YM ain’t no more CM Let’s pluck out the stems, let’s fuck like a nymph She walk out, she limp, it’s dark and we dim, yeah We dem niggas, handcuffing him niggas back up and skim niggas See that we strapped up we cap up your brim nigga Fill my cup up to the rim nigga, Tunechi

Album: Destiny Fulfilled

Released: November 9, 2004

Producer: Rich Harrison, Beyoncé Knowles

Hey, see, Cash Money is a army I’m walking with purple hearts on me You talking to the sergeant Body marked up like the subway in Harlem Call him, Weezy F. baby, please say the baby If you don’t see me on the block I ain’t trying to hide I blend in wit’ the hood, I’m camouflage Bandanna tied, so mami join my troop Now every time she hear my name she salute!

Album: Hitler Wears Hermes 8: Sincerely Adolf

Released: August 27, 2021

Producer: Denny Laflare

Karate with the stars, nigga Got my feet kicked up that far, nigga Black belt, Balenciaga jeans, yeah, it’s soft denim Got the bulge in ’em, that’s all cheese, Sargento Got the new spot, glass house, that’s all windows I be starin’ out ’em all day lookin’ for God’s signals Starin’ out into my driveway at the different car symbols All big bodies with soft guts like scar tissue These funny cats’ll Garfield you I just let this chopper ring, won’t even phone bill you Long money, long magazine, long pistol These Celine tall Timbs is mean, short temper Ah yes, money talk givin’ niggas little man complex Four finger rings will limit hand to hand contact Tunechi 3K, three bad bitches with me, booty beefcake My homie in the back masked up like lucha libre (Baow), uh All black nina, call her dark and lovely Feds took my gold one, I cried like they took my daughter from me You don’t know the half of it, bullets givin’ c-sections Split niggas in half for me, on codeine, I’m a crash dummy Big dog, get swallowed down to my last puppy I could make your Kim, Kourtney, Khloe do the dash for me Young Money, Cash Money, uh, blast for me Throw some money on the dancer, make some money dance for me Mula

Album: F.A.M.E.

Released: February 1, 2011

Producer: Diplo, Afrojack, Free School

Man, fuck these bitch-ass niggas, how y’all doin’? I’m Lil Tunechi, I’m a nuisance I go stupid, I go dumb like the Three Stooges I don’t eat sushi, I’m the shit No, I’m pollution, no substitution Got a bitch that play in movies in my jacuzzi, pussy juicy I never gave a fuck about a hater Got money on my radar, dressed like a skater Got a big house, came with an elevator You niggas ain’t eatin’, fuck it, tell a waiter Marley said “shoot ’em”, and I said “okay” If you wanted bullshit, then I’m like, “¡Olé!” I don’t care what you say, so don’t even speak Your girlfriend a freak like Cirque Du Soleil That’s word to my flag, and my flag red I’m out of my head, bitch, I’m outta my mind From the bottom I climb, you ain’t hotter than mine (Nope) Not on my time, and I’m not even tryin’ What’s poppin’, slime? Nothin’, five And if they trippin’, fuck ’em, five I ain’t got no time to shuck and jive These niggas as sweet as pumpkin pie CîROC and Sprite on a private flight Bitch, I been tight since Guiding Light And my pockets right, and my diamonds white And my momma’s nice, and my daddy’s dead You faggots scared ’cause I’m too wild Been here for a while, I was like, “Fuck trial” I puts it down, I’m so Young Money If you got eyes, look at me now, bitch!

Album: II Trill

Released: May 20, 2008

Producer: CHOPS

See, when I got Mercedes money, I went and got a Mercedes When I got that Bentley money, I went and got that Bentley Now, if you ain’t help me make it, don’t tell me how to spend it And yes, I know the rules: never marry Robin Givens Mozzarella over bitches, so we call them bitches cheeseheads Lambeau Leap in that pussy like in Green Bay Lambo’ sweet, look like sugar on the freeway And I’m riding dirty, ’cause I’m so UGK One, two, three, wait; four-four makes eight Nine times out of ten, it’s 11 or a 12-gauge Friday the 13th: that’s the day that hell raise But y’all boys too weak, like fourteen days I’m so clean; why wouldn’t I be? I be with Ben Frank so much, he starting to look like me I’ma smoke my weed, ’cause I don’t want to smoke yours And I pour four every time I pour

Album: Priceless 

Released: September 16, 2009

Producer: Drumma Boy

Well, I get paid every 24 hours, money and the power C—Come to V.I.P. and get a champagne shower I don’t have to worry because everything ours And I got a big bouquet of Mary Jane’s flowers—that kush I promise, that’s my dude, but we don’t smoke that Reggie Bush And I’m with two women—make you take a second look We popping like champagne bottles, but we never shook And we gon’ be all right if we put Drake on every hook

Album: Graduation

Released: September 11, 2007

Producer: Nottz, Kanye West

I’m so bright, not shady My teeth and my ice so white like Shady Ice in my teeth so refrigerated I’m so fuckin’ good like I’m sleepin’ with Meagan (Ha!) I’m all about my Franklins, Lincolns, and Reagans Whenever they make them, I shall hayve them Oops, I meant “have them”—I’m so crazy But if you play crazy, you be sleeping with daisies I’m such a hayvoc—oops, I meant “havoc” And my drink’s still pinker than the Easter rabbit And I’m still col’ like Keyshia’s family Stove on my waist turn beef to patties (Bow!) And I ate it ’cause I’m so avid (No homo) And I don’t front and I don’t go backwards And I don’t practice, and I don’t lack shit And you can get buried—suck my bat, bitch (ha!)

Album: Take Care

Released: November 29, 2011

Producer: T-Minus

One time, fuck one time I’m callin’ niggas out like the umpire Seven grams in the blunt Almost drowned in her pussy, so I swam to her butt It’s Eastside, we in this bitch Wish a nigga would like a tree in this bitch And if a leaf fall, put some weed in that bitch That’s my MO, add a B to that shit I’m fucked up, tore down I’m twisted, doorknob Talk stupid, off with your head Nigga, money talks, and Mr. Ed, yeah I’m so Young Money Got a drum on the gun, Energizer Bunny Funny how honey ain’t sweet like sugar Ain’t shit sweet, niggas on the street like hookers I tongue-kiss her other tongue Skeet, skeet, skeet, water gun Oh my God, Becky, look at her butt, Tunechi

Album: Three Ringz

Released: July 29, 2008

Producer: T-Pain

Now I can put your ass out Keep running your mouth And if your brothers come tripping I’mma show em what these teardrops bout Shawty I was just playing Oh but I can take you to the Cayman Islands Have you screaming and hollering We gonna be making Love on the beach The people see what we doing Aww, they pointing and ooing Oh but we gone keep on doing it Like it’s just me and you and no one else around It went down on the balcony And I ain’t talking no penthouse suite Shawty like a model out the Penthouse Sheets That’s why I got her on my Penthouse Sheets

Album: Follow Me Home

Released: October 16, 2008

Producer: Cool & Dre

Yeah, times is hard as it is That’s why I got guns and my guns got kids That’s why I be going so tough on them hoes I play my own hand, I don’t shuffle or fold Fuck with a nigga, let’s go fuck with some hoes Hear them bitches screaming like they stuck in a hole I am not a demon but was once a lost soul ‘Til I found myself a block away from the crossroad I have, outgrown the fishbowl And now I’m on my feet like a fucking insole And yeah it may hurt like a fucking lymph node But it’s fuck the world like a fucking nympho And we spend dough cause we make more And I make sure when I say so It’s Jay Rock and Weezy, need I say more? Clothesline the beat, Ted DiBiase flow

Album: B.O.A.T.S. II: Me Time

Released: September 10, 2013

Producer: D. Rich, Diplo (co.), Wonder Arillo (co.)

Tell ’em come to the cribbo and do them both, double dribble I’m colder than a hospital, she love the dick that I give her Hit her from the front, back, side, twist her like cigarillos I put the gun to the pillow, I don’t want blood on my clothes Gotta keep that Trukfit fresh, shoutout to all of my hoes Well, if you know like I know, that pussy pop like pyro And she know I’m a pothead, that pussy like a pothole I’m colder than a snotnose, man all these hoes is my hoes And if she bougie, fuck her once then leave her hanging, dry clothes I just built a cemetery, niggas dying to get in Niggas lying, they pretend, don’t cross that line, it’s paper thin High as a star, make a wish, I’m a shark, I ate the fish I got no heart, I hate that bitch

Album: 808s & Heartbreak

Released: November 24, 2008

Producer: Kanye West

Baby girl, I’m finished, I thought we were committed I thought we were cemented, I really thought we meant it But now we just repent it, and now we just resent it The clouds is in my vision, look how high that I be getting And it’s all because of you, girl, we through You think your ish don’t stank, but you are Mrs. P-U And I don’t see you with me no more Now tell everybody that you know, that you know

Album: Excuse My French

Released: June 15, 2012

Producer: Lee On the Beats

Bitch! Stop talkin’ that shit And suck a nigga dick for some Trukfit Okay I fuck a bitch and I’m gone That’s gangsta: Al Capone I make that pussy spit like Bone I’m talkin’ ’bout bone, bone, bone bone I’m fuckin’ with French, excuse my French I lose my mind before I lose my bitch Money ain’t a thing but a chicken wing Bitch I ball like two eyelids YMCM beat that pussy up, stop playin’ I make her ass scream and holla like rock bands I’m a beast, I’m off the leash I am rich like a bitch On my Proactiv shit, pop that pussy like a zit I go by the name Lil Tunechi Your girl is a groupie And nigga, you’s a square And I will twist you like in a Rubik’s Motherfucker I’m on my skateboard Watch me do a trick, ho I’m 5’5″ but I could 6-9 Then beat that pussy like Klitschko It’s French Montana, fuck Joe It’s Weezy F, fuck hoes It’s Truk the world It’s Truk yo girl It’s Trukfit by the truck load, biatch!