"Got It All Day" lyrics
Yeah
Got it all day, don't wanna talk, got what you need
Got them bricks of girl and we got raw and 'bows of weed
Who you shoppin' with if you ain't shoppin' with the kid?
I brought all my nigs, all we know is do it big
I been fresh since a kid, ask about me in the streets
Hit your ass in a wig, ask about us when it's beef
Whole hood in the feds, only one still on the streets
So until I sit down, I'ma ball like the heat
Walk in Somerset and spend a thousand on my feet
Walk inside the club, spend a thousand on a freak
Tees in the summer, in the winter, it's the mink
You already know how I do, bitch, it's me
Ain't no cap in my rap, ain't no shame in my game
I got dirt in my soda, got VSs in my chain
You ain't never seen a check for fifty thousand in your name
I done bust down Rollies, I done left them bitches plain
Ten on my now, why you think I'm poppin' shit?
Racks on me in the booth, them bitches give me confidence
Bitch niggas still hatin', but they still ain't stoppin' shit
I'ma go do my time, come back home and drop a Bent'
Fuck the rap game, I can't say that shit enough
Thirty in my pocket, you ain't made this in a month
Hit me if you shoppin', I got flavors in the trunk
You can't buy the whole thing, I'll break them bitches up
Fourteen hundred for the sweater 'cause it's Gucci
Smell like Creed, make a ho give me that coochie
Lights, cameras, action, in the club makin' movies
When I speak on the blender, nigga, we ain't makin' smoothies
Talkin' 'bout them grams of raw, what's your budget?
Sell 'em for a hundred a gram 'cause you can cut it
You can put a half on one and they'll love it
Take this shit out of town, come back a rich motherfucker
I done broke hella scales, I done broke bitches' hearts
Nigga, I done been broke, that's how I broke my granny jar
Twenty-eight when it's soft, twenty-four when it's hard
I'll put the strap down and break a pussy nigga jaw
Sixty on the watch, yeah, I do this shit for Soda
Twenty on the chain, I'ma do this 'til it's over
Seen my nigga Fuji get indicted in Dakota
I don't talk on the phone, wanna see me, bitch, come over
Iced Up Records, Ghetto Boyz, Wavy Gang, ho
Forty niggas with us, bitch, we got 'bout eighty chains on
Listenin' to, "Fuck the Chicken Up," that's my theme song
I'll fuck some chicken up and leave out with your main ho
Bitch, I'm in the mafia, I ain't talkin' Dame, though
All blues on me, bitch, but I ain't in no gang, though
Yeah, that nigga might be gettin' money, but he lame, though
Million-dollar nigga, that's without a watch and chain on, bitch
Ayy
Let the beat ride out, Dave
You already know we ain't doin' hooks no more, nigga
That shit over, let's go
Got it all day, don't wanna talk, got what you need
Got them bricks of girl and we got raw and 'bows of weed
Who you shoppin' with if you ain't shoppin' with the kid?
I brought all my nigs, all we know is do it big
I been fresh since a kid, ask about me in the streets
Hit your ass in a wig, ask about us when it's beef
Whole hood in the feds, only one still on the streets
So until I sit down, I'ma ball like the heat
Walk in Somerset and spend a thousand on my feet
Walk inside the club, spend a thousand on a freak
Tees in the summer, in the winter, it's the mink
You already know how I do, bitch, it's me
Ain't no cap in my rap, ain't no shame in my game
I got dirt in my soda, got VSs in my chain
You ain't never seen a check for fifty thousand in your name
I done bust down Rollies, I done left them bitches plain
Ten on my now, why you think I'm poppin' shit?
Racks on me in the booth, them bitches give me confidence
Bitch niggas still hatin', but they still ain't stoppin' shit
I'ma go do my time, come back home and drop a Bent'
Fuck the rap game, I can't say that shit enough
Thirty in my pocket, you ain't made this in a month
Hit me if you shoppin', I got flavors in the trunk
You can't buy the whole thing, I'll break them bitches up
Fourteen hundred for the sweater 'cause it's Gucci
Smell like Creed, make a ho give me that coochie
Lights, cameras, action, in the club makin' movies
When I speak on the blender, nigga, we ain't makin' smoothies
Talkin' 'bout them grams of raw, what's your budget?
Sell 'em for a hundred a gram 'cause you can cut it
You can put a half on one and they'll love it
Take this shit out of town, come back a rich motherfucker
I done broke hella scales, I done broke bitches' hearts
Nigga, I done been broke, that's how I broke my granny jar
Twenty-eight when it's soft, twenty-four when it's hard
I'll put the strap down and break a pussy nigga jaw
Sixty on the watch, yeah, I do this shit for Soda
Twenty on the chain, I'ma do this 'til it's over
Seen my nigga Fuji get indicted in Dakota
I don't talk on the phone, wanna see me, bitch, come over
Iced Up Records, Ghetto Boyz, Wavy Gang, ho
Forty niggas with us, bitch, we got 'bout eighty chains on
Listenin' to, "Fuck the Chicken Up," that's my theme song
I'll fuck some chicken up and leave out with your main ho
Bitch, I'm in the mafia, I ain't talkin' Dame, though
All blues on me, bitch, but I ain't in no gang, though
Yeah, that nigga might be gettin' money, but he lame, though
Million-dollar nigga, that's without a watch and chain on, bitch
Ayy
Let the beat ride out, Dave
You already know we ain't doin' hooks no more, nigga
That shit over, let's go
