"Give Me Mine" lyrics
(feat. Ron Paul)
[Max B:]
From rats to white roaches
No coaches, just Gucci, Louis, we gettin' Lucchi (Lucchi)
Loopy, you niggas ain't
Bullets, bust off, big clips, leave you niggas stank
Leave 'em on the plank, let 'em walk it (Walk it)
Talk it, it's a thin fine line between money and coffins
Often, Bigga, he be flossin'
I fuck around and cop anything, I don't care what the cost is
Took your losses, tried to bet against the Quarantine, like I wouldn't go
Best to stop starting with me 'fore I pull the semi out (Out)
This nigga, Jimmy, out, why he styling? (Why?)
He sold only ten-thousand this album
Flopped like a nigga on a skateboard, tryna blackball (Tryna blackball)
'Cause the nigga make cake, dog, steak, y'all
Scrambled eggs, cheese, we can handle it
Walking through the cave (Cave), you know I got my candle lit, oww
[Ron Paul:]
Everybody on the come up
Gettin' money, on the come up
Seven digits, trickin', when a nigga pitch, mini vision
Fuck it, give me mine, I don't wanna see us hit missin'
We on a mission, tryna stay away from these bitches
The street politicians, and sound vicious
Magnetically, my crack is something superstitious
Move through trenches, so fiends can't igg it when it's time to sniff it
My mind state on something different
Mentally strain my brain to stay away from cocaine
But it's calling me, my lifestyle haunting my raps
But through maturity, I squeeze rapidly through your act
I give it all of me, niggas, stipulated to max
So when I squeeze for contact, I hope your lungs collapse
It's getting wild, grimy niggas stay on the prowl
We move through the crowd with the pound, acting foul
Kapow, that's all she wrote for a note
Street savages, give a fuck about a quote
But it's all sporadic, got juveniles squeezing at the addicts
Psychological pitch got 'em acting backwards
We all slang in the same projects
Inundated with crack, fuckin' up my process
Seven digits, trickin', when a nigga pitch, mini vision
Fuck it, give me mine, I don't wanna see us hit missin'
We on a mission, tryna stay away from these bitches
The street politicians, and sound vicious
From rats to white roaches
No coaches, just Gucci, Louis, we gettin' Lucchi (Lucchi)
Loopy, you niggas ain't
Bullets, bust off, big clips, leave you niggas stank
Leave 'em on the plank, let 'em walk it (Walk it)
Talk it, it's a thin fine line between money and coffins
Often, Bigga, he be flossin'
I fuck around and cop anything, I don't care what the cost is
Took your losses, tried to bet against the Quarantine, like I wouldn't go
Best to stop starting with me 'fore I pull the semi out (Out)
This nigga, Jimmy, out, why he styling? (Why?)
He sold only ten-thousand this album
Flopped like a nigga on a skateboard, tryna blackball (Tryna blackball)
'Cause the nigga make cake, dog, steak, y'all
Scrambled eggs, cheese, we can handle it
Walking through the cave (Cave), you know I got my candle lit, oww
[Ron Paul:]
Everybody on the come up
Gettin' money, on the come up
Seven digits, trickin', when a nigga pitch, mini vision
Fuck it, give me mine, I don't wanna see us hit missin'
We on a mission, tryna stay away from these bitches
The street politicians, and sound vicious
Magnetically, my crack is something superstitious
Move through trenches, so fiends can't igg it when it's time to sniff it
My mind state on something different
Mentally strain my brain to stay away from cocaine
But it's calling me, my lifestyle haunting my raps
But through maturity, I squeeze rapidly through your act
I give it all of me, niggas, stipulated to max
So when I squeeze for contact, I hope your lungs collapse
It's getting wild, grimy niggas stay on the prowl
We move through the crowd with the pound, acting foul
Kapow, that's all she wrote for a note
Street savages, give a fuck about a quote
But it's all sporadic, got juveniles squeezing at the addicts
Psychological pitch got 'em acting backwards
We all slang in the same projects
Inundated with crack, fuckin' up my process
Seven digits, trickin', when a nigga pitch, mini vision
Fuck it, give me mine, I don't wanna see us hit missin'
We on a mission, tryna stay away from these bitches
The street politicians, and sound vicious
