conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Bang Bang with the following description: Seventh track off of Weezy’s Dedication 3. Basically talkin bout squeezin tha heaters wit Gudda Gudda and Jae Millz.
  Lil' Wayne sampled this beat from Soulja Boy’s “Let Me Get Em'”. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Intro: Lil Wayne, 
  DJ Drama
   & 
  DJ drops
  ]
  Bitch!
  The Aphilliates, nigga, holla at your boy
  Uh-huh
  DJ Drama!
  My lip all fucked up
  You probably could hear it, like, on my P's and my B's, but it's cool, fuck it
  Gangsta!
  Get 'em!
  [False Start: Lil Wayne, 
  DJ Drama
   & 
  DJ drops
  ]
  Shooting 'til my motherfucking hand fall off
  You're track stars; the gunshot ran y'all off (
  Gangsta!
  )
  I pop like a soda, watch the can fall off
  I can kill y'all and y'all boss (
  Gangsta Grillz, you bastards!
   
  Oh!
  )
  [Verse 1: Lil Wayne, 
  DJ Drama
   & 
  DJ drops
  ]
  Shooting 'til my motherfucking hand fall off
  You're track stars; the gunshot ran y'all off
  I pop like a soda, watch the can fall off
  I can kill y'all and y'all boss (
  Gangsta Gri-Zillz!
  )
  Shotguns, handguns, louder than a band drum
  You fucking with the drum major, let me play you the anthem (
  Oh!
  )
  Bang-bang-bang-bang, call it heavy metal
  I say, "Bang bang," bitch, I make you feel every letter
  B-A-N-G, B-A-N-G
  G-A-N-G, we spray then leave
  We play when we—no, we play N-E-
  V-E-R; C-P-R
  Doctor Carter, are you the disease, boy?
  Young Money, motherfucker, *these* these boys
  Bitch is you crazy? We's retards
  Watch Nina, Mac, and Tommy have a brief ménage
  Like: (
  Gangsta!
  ) (
  *bang-bang*, *bang-bang*
  )
  Hehe! Like: (
  *bang-bang*, *bang-bang*
  ) (
  Gangsta Gri-Zillz!
  )
  Hehe, yeah! Soulja Boy on the beat
  But you can call me Chef Boyardee
  'Cause I'ma heat this shit, and I'ma eat this shit
  Planet Earth is my toilet, you're beneath this shit
  Then I flush and wipe my ass; gunslinger like a pass
  I cock back and throw a bomb—now, Hail Mary
  You tale-fairy, fairytale, very frail
  And yeah, we got them hammers, tryna hit every nail
  Let them sail up the river with that ho shit
  Or leave them face-down in the fucking ocean, yeah
  I ain't on no other shit, bitch, I'm on some more shit
  That, "Hello, how you doing? I am at your front door" shit
  That, "Aww, naww, he got a gun! Oh shit!" ... shit
  Shit [Verse 2: Jae Millz]
  Okay, it's Young Money, what you know 'bout it?
  The semi-auto'll rip open your body and tear the soul out it
  And all that fronting shit, nigga, I don't know about it
  Call me Master Jae, bitch, I'm so 'bout it
  Even my ho 'bout it, and don't doubt it
  'Cause we both a-be Angelina-and-Brad'-ing
  Spazzing and blasting, blasting and ratatat-ing
  And nah, I don't cook, but like potatoes, I a-mash 'em
  I don't give a fuck about your money or your fashion
  Shots through the window of your brand-new Aston
  You get out, try to run, now your chest where them bullets crashing
  Pine box niggas, no crutches, no casts, and
  No wheelchair, just the two-door, long, black wagon
  Flowers on the side, and four wheels to steer
  I ain't never scared, and I ain't never care
  So fuck what they doing over there, I'm doing it here
  You're nothing like me, fuckboy, don't be outlandish
  We gorillas in the mist, y'all just some "Kung Fu Pandas"
  Sweet like Fantas, ha
  My blood is the same as Bruce Banner's, hit record on the cameras
  Motherfuck all the bullshit and antics
  They saying, "He ain't gotta get a clearance from Wayne"
  That's a disadvantage
  Being broke is a foreign language for me, like Spanish
  Musically, I direct thrillers, call me John Landis [Break: Jae Millz, 
  DJ Drama
   & 
  DJ drops
  ]
  Hahaha
  Gangsta Grillz, you bastards!
  Fuck that nigga in the red jacket, nigga
  Gangsta!
  Gangsta Gri-Zillz!
  [Verse 3: Gudda Gudda]
  It's the 5-0-4 slaughterhouse bloodbath
  Lil' nigga stand tall like a gi-raffe
  One-man gang, animal, cannibal
  Eat rappers for dinner, my nickname "Hannibal"
  Guns for days, I show you what this cannon do
  Hit you and split your motherfucking man in two
  I grab the chopper southpaw, that’s how I hold the toy
  I aim and crank that bitch like Soulja Boy
  I’m in the streets one-deep, I can hold my own
  And shit, it’s only one seat, and I control the throne
  Look, bitch, I’m on my crazy-ass shit
  You see the gun poking out like Sheneneh lips, yeah
  Watch your lips when talking
  'Cause I be on your grave, nigga, leaking in your coffin—
  Rest in piss! When I die, let me rest with clips
  Rambo, I’ma go on my Sylvester shit, bang!