Whatchu Need

Yeah
Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga
This shit on the floor
Alright
Lemme know when it drop Nuez
What you need?
What you need, what you need, nigga
What you need, nigga
What you need, what you need, nigga
Ayy

I'm the hood pharmacist, tell me what you need
OxyContin, Percs, I don't fuck with weed
What you need, a lil' lean
Hit my phone, nigga
Hit my phone, you know I'm fuckin' with them beans too
Bitch, I got a doctor plug, I don't need you
Hit him in his head with the K, now it's see-through
How many Percs you 'bout to eat, Shit, I need two
Oh, your mama smoke dope, I'm a fiend too
Vision blurry, words slurry, that's what lean do
I'm really fucked up in the head, I know I seem cool
Bitch, I'll kill the whole world, now it's just me and you
Got a real plug on the 'bows, he Hebrew
My nigga ate a plate in my face, I wanna eat too
You know your mans a rat and you still with him, you might be one too
Whole pint of Wockhardt gone, it's just me and Lou
Ten milli' on my hip, I can kill a cop
Gucci raincoat on, I ain't feel a drop
How the fuck this whole eight gone and it's just 6 o'clock
I know you seen me with that AP thang on, but this a different watch
Tremendous aim, dog upped his strap, got the pistol shot
Nigga, you ain't never dropped shit, you just pimple pop
Okay, that OxyContin 30 kickin' in, I can sip now
200K in blues on me now, I'm a Crip now
Used to have to go in on a bag, but I'm rich now
Every week, got a thousand blues gettin' sent out
The prosecutor racist than a bitch, I'm finna flip out
Ridin' in a Scat', lookin' for the opps, just seen one and flipped out
When I'm in my feelings, I be ridin' past K-Trip house
He took a couple pills and ain't wake up, how that shit sound
I got some white fentanyl, bout to mix brown
Headshot, the nigga lost his life before he hit the ground
Imma calm down on this run, I'ma check 'em out
It's a lil' switch on the back part, this a different Glock
Grocery shoppin' at Walmart with the nickel cocked
Nigga run up on me, I'ma whip it out, bitch, I pistol shop
You don't need no fuckin' bag of ice, you got a little knot
I'm at Lil E crib, he got more pills than a 'spital got
I'ma need thirty-eight hundred for a Skittle crop
They tried to box me in the dope game, I had to wiggle out
Can't believe this nigga lit a Swisher, someone kick him out
Catch me in the hood takin' pictures with the pistol out
He want three hundred a line for a pint of Wock', I whipped a nickel out
Took two hundred dollars off the top, now give me my ounces
I can make twenty racks quick, just give me an hour
Dope money wrinkled up like it got left in the washer
I was goin' through some real shit, I met me a counselor
My Beecher nigga tryna buy a brick, he met me on Carter
The chain I got on real thick like seventy-one dollars
I remember ridin' with a bitch in an '06 Chevy Impala
Shit, and since we talkin' 'bout cars, my neck a Marauder
He was not tryna give the bars, up stick on the doctor
This shit came quick, yeah
This shit came quick, swear it felt like we got rich in an hour
Unc' hit me with a clean brick, now I'm siftin' in powder
Told me don't worry 'bout the money, he'll get it tomorrow
Said so much shit, you gotta listen, you might hear it tomorrow
Seen a nigga drop a Scatpack and get killed in a Charger
Of course the pint had a seal on it, it was hit at the bottom
I know that's some real Actavis, look how it sit at the bottom

Yeah, Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga
Yeah, sometimes
This bitch smooth as hell, alright



Credits
Writer(s): Damario Horne-mccullough
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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