CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Want What
I'm a man on a mission taking no sh*t
With a big 4-5th sitting on the passenger seat
I get cash in the street
I don't think you wanna bite the bullet when I pull it man I'm fast with the heat
I can say that I done been through the good, the bad, the ugly, and all of the above
All make em the bitter
You can see the poverty and pain of real n***as in Carmel
We call that the motivation of a drug dealer
I ain't tripping he ain't making me none
I keep my faith in God gripping a gun on the corner
Because if it didn't kill me then it's making me stronger than ammonia so I'mma last longer
I heard you got a 9 but you ain't f**king with Mob because the barrel of the 4-5s on ya
I can smell the aroma of death when I'm up on ya
Chopping you n***as up like bologna
I bet you get enough of eyeing me right
You n***as trynna be hype
But to be finally fight
I got my lawyer paid off so I'm dying to strike
All it take is a phone call to be dying tonight
I give a n***a a dunk off for trying to fight
n***as head for the heels to the eye tonight
You think Iron Mike until I break the two like you're running for a hoe like to blind your [mics?]
See bait make the fly fish you
I sit back and polish pistols
My cartridge is filled up to the brim with rocket missiles
I'm willing and ready for any opponent
I'mma take ranks so you best not flaunt it
AK-47 clip with a fifty round drum on the b*t*h
Y'all n***as don't want it
With a big 4-5th sitting on the passenger seat
I get cash in the street
I don't think you wanna bite the bullet when I pull it man I'm fast with the heat
I can say that I done been through the good, the bad, the ugly, and all of the above
All make em the bitter
You can see the poverty and pain of real n***as in Carmel
We call that the motivation of a drug dealer
I ain't tripping he ain't making me none
I keep my faith in God gripping a gun on the corner
Because if it didn't kill me then it's making me stronger than ammonia so I'mma last longer
I heard you got a 9 but you ain't f**king with Mob because the barrel of the 4-5s on ya
I can smell the aroma of death when I'm up on ya
Chopping you n***as up like bologna
I bet you get enough of eyeing me right
You n***as trynna be hype
But to be finally fight
I got my lawyer paid off so I'm dying to strike
All it take is a phone call to be dying tonight
I give a n***a a dunk off for trying to fight
n***as head for the heels to the eye tonight
You think Iron Mike until I break the two like you're running for a hoe like to blind your [mics?]
See bait make the fly fish you
I sit back and polish pistols
My cartridge is filled up to the brim with rocket missiles
I'm willing and ready for any opponent
I'mma take ranks so you best not flaunt it
AK-47 clip with a fifty round drum on the b*t*h
Y'all n***as don't want it
