J.R. Writer
Full Clip
[Verse 1]
Jumpsuit at Pataki’s fresh home, but focus
Hopeless, finding out ways to where that coke is
Told him smoke this, gave him that like hold this
Me and LeBron meet you at the mall for this road trip
In and out every bank hit, every route, make sure
Correct them out can’t lie, check the account
For my dogs they need burners I gave them out
Broke some laws but beat the murders, I paid it out
Helped them out if you tough, why yelling shot
When they killed Ricky you turned in the tray, like let him out
Gut the lock, set the film box, I set him out
Miss sugar hill posted in a Jag but mellowed out
When n***as yo muscle they take advantage of it
Beefing with them they think you ain’t gonna make the sandwich of em
Everything ain’t a movie, make sure the camera’s covered
Lift the Uzi before I be another Kaniko

[Hook x2]
If we ain’t got it, we get it
You got it, let’s get it
Who got him to get it
‘Cause they got him they get it
Every shot that we sending
We hot or we winning
This ain’t no bullsh*t, n***a
This a full clip
[Verse 2]
We ain’t got it, we get it, you ain’t got it, we get it
If we got it this caddy, get in, lil momma, we livin’
Handing out exquisite whips while you hopping them relics
Savage, hook this with the dent you’ve been popped for a minute
Dig it? You ain’t never lived by the law of the streets
Lieutenant, what you ever did to record you a beat
The lyrics? The definition of talking is cheap
I live it, that’s why you b*t*h keep my songs on repeat
Capish I’m in your party, give me ten feet
Before I pull off with your Barbie in a Benz jeep
Your boobie know I’m hotter than the Benz seats
You couldn’t move me with a Martin Luther King speech
Sheesh, I got a fever with the lyrics, you can see it ‘cause it’s vivid
They believe it when I spit it, n***a
You n***as don’t see it, I’m a menace
I used to hold the block, I can’t see it in a minute

[Hook x2]

[Verse 3]
You ain’t ‘bout it to live it
You a coward, forget it
Talking powder, I’m with it
Hand me a pot in the kitchen
Haters probably b*t*hing
Yeah, they probably pitching
Drag it down, n***a, go find a brick
Lying down for ringing, the iron loud
I gotta bang I’m like Johnny Yang from Chinatown
I ‘bout to bang like I gotta drink to quiet down
I’m at the same, different kind of mink, that’s lighter brown
I’m known to test shoot, 38 hold the special
Live like a Soprano, no listen like Tony nephew
But fold up 12 joints, there’s four left, more or less
I’m posting the ave and go text
Thinking the L, fly n***a for real
Sick of being your average why n***a was ill
Quicker with the ratchet, never mind the steel
I’m going for your watch so I got time to kill
[Hook x2]