Raekwon - Gotta Have It Lyrics
(feat. Gravy & Brolic)[Chorus: Boy Big]See we gotta have itMe and my niggas here to lay you downAin't playing, so hit the floorAnd don't make no *****ing soundWe gotta have itWe move just like the mob, doThis game is real, caps get peeled***** around, I'll have to murk you[Raekwon:]Yo, from *****tails, 3-80's with the M-1, we bury the jewelry storePosting, yelling 'get yours', we on PivotCoke pilot mink, Kay Gatling Island, Trini and ChiAll day gangsta, murda niggas, sleepWe at the red light, mapped 'em, drove through, as all blockCaught they attention, I leanedTime Magazine with my face on it, how we position the CREAMNiggas is large, they all start schemingWhatever, truck 'em in them leathers, we was stuck together***** around and have to shoot off fingers, yoYou know it, approach the glass with the maskes onNo time for freeze, just pull out and blast on 'emSat back, Denzel status, Man on FireHad the burner with the flash on itSkated with six hundred and cash, he did the dummyWe splashed 'em, then boat it in a CLS glass, we vicious[Chorus][Brolic:]Come one, I see my cash is getting lowAnd if I can't shake no dough, what the ***** am I living forIt's easy for my heater, just to let these niggas knowAt the same time, I will take mines to persue to my cash flowYou know you gotta be sick with itCall up my mans, cause we about to go get itA hundred grand is you with it, a smash for the causeLooting to the spot, putting everybody on pauseLet me see a broke jaw, nigga, I want it allI'm talking to all of ya'll, don't get it, you gon' fallOr ***** it, you gon' crawl, my nigga, we laying lawWe ***** back the strap, attack and shake it off[Chorus][Gravy:]Glocks'll get at you, and body your positionIn this rap, fire my ratchet, I'm shutting this rapCaddy steel, face the back, or blown the ***** off from rapReach across and blow this shit out your boss in the backSurvived in a porsche, I rap, at a buck 80 verseOr verse, daddy, let's do it for changeI'm forty eight hundred grams, one chain, the trend, a new rangeOr any project bench, with all my shit onFlashy don, Gucci on uptowns*****ing up classics, gay baskets, D.H. niggasWon't snitch for shit, criminals that spitOh shit, I forgot all about you man, twenty and changeFerocious tongues, coming at you, redirecting your whole shitBlunt stole, dealing sickGlocks'll blow chunks out your face, looking up in the skySeeing Ol' Dirty's face in the cloud[Chorus x2]
