Need More
Been that nigga since I was conceived
No bigs, tracing my genes, my mama was a G
Known to keep a pistol tucked in my Dungarees
And if a nigga try, he gon' have to murder me
On my mama, block hotter than Rwanda
Stashing packs in my sister's Honda
I know they heard that we servin'
But if they search, they won't find 'em
Out here grinding with a purpose
Posted up like Andrew Bynum on the block
Ray Allen with these shots
Put a nigga in a box, dump the Glock
Where was you at? I forgot
No pistol, no Ks – get out the next day
Finessing that yay, I'm like James with that rock
Put holes in his feet, now he walkin' with crocs
Don't fuck with these niggas, don't talk to these cops
No love for these hoes, I'm chasing this dough
Get mines with that hooptie and then to a drop
Snitches don't live where I come from
And pussy niggas get fucked if they want some
I'm tryna get my mama out them fuckin' slums
So I ain't 'bout to settle for no fuckin' crumbs
Bible on the bed, pistol on the floor
Police on our head, landlord at the door
A lot of nights we wasn't fed – bred for the war
So I ain't settling for shit, tell that bitch I need more
Tell that bitch I need more
Tell that bitch I need more
Tell that bitch I need more
A lot of nights we wasn't fed – bred for the war
I'm from the place where the fuckin' police can't go
Started from the real bottom, can't reach that low
We gettin' dollars out a bitch, better teach that hoe
Whippin' up the ice cream with some sweet yayo
My neighbours all on that glass dick
Tryna get as high as that last hit
Got me out here sellin' this crack, shit
Could've been a motherfuckin' draft pic
Like first round – jail bound
Niggas get crossed out and kneel down
Ma'fuckas wanna get a fade with me?
Bet they can't go the whole twelve rounds
On my Mayweather shit
A nigga tryna get Mayweather rich
FG might break a hoe, but won't make the hoe
But I'll let you take care of the bitch
'Fore you crack that Hen, bless the fifth
Can't a ma'fucka live? Test the clique
Shout out to my goalie, motherfuck the police
Nigga, we ain't scared of shit, what it be like?
No bigs, tracing my genes, my mama was a G
Known to keep a pistol tucked in my Dungarees
And if a nigga try, he gon' have to murder me
On my mama, block hotter than Rwanda
Stashing packs in my sister's Honda
I know they heard that we servin'
But if they search, they won't find 'em
Out here grinding with a purpose
Posted up like Andrew Bynum on the block
Ray Allen with these shots
Put a nigga in a box, dump the Glock
Where was you at? I forgot
No pistol, no Ks – get out the next day
Finessing that yay, I'm like James with that rock
Put holes in his feet, now he walkin' with crocs
Don't fuck with these niggas, don't talk to these cops
No love for these hoes, I'm chasing this dough
Get mines with that hooptie and then to a drop
Snitches don't live where I come from
And pussy niggas get fucked if they want some
I'm tryna get my mama out them fuckin' slums
So I ain't 'bout to settle for no fuckin' crumbs
Bible on the bed, pistol on the floor
Police on our head, landlord at the door
A lot of nights we wasn't fed – bred for the war
So I ain't settling for shit, tell that bitch I need more
Tell that bitch I need more
Tell that bitch I need more
Tell that bitch I need more
A lot of nights we wasn't fed – bred for the war
I'm from the place where the fuckin' police can't go
Started from the real bottom, can't reach that low
We gettin' dollars out a bitch, better teach that hoe
Whippin' up the ice cream with some sweet yayo
My neighbours all on that glass dick
Tryna get as high as that last hit
Got me out here sellin' this crack, shit
Could've been a motherfuckin' draft pic
Like first round – jail bound
Niggas get crossed out and kneel down
Ma'fuckas wanna get a fade with me?
Bet they can't go the whole twelve rounds
On my Mayweather shit
A nigga tryna get Mayweather rich
FG might break a hoe, but won't make the hoe
But I'll let you take care of the bitch
'Fore you crack that Hen, bless the fifth
Can't a ma'fucka live? Test the clique
Shout out to my goalie, motherfuck the police
Nigga, we ain't scared of shit, what it be like?
Credits
Writer(s): Inconnu Compositeur Auteur, Samuel Bluiett Jr
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.