
nuk - got it bad lyrics
[intro]
(bangthatsh_t)
[verse 1]
n_ggas still sleepin’ on me, i’m goin’ back in
i guess n_ggas waitin’ on me to blow for them to tap in
bought fifty grams of puppy chow and then i stack bread
the whities hate me, all these racist faces on the black man
know when it’s p_ssy in n_ggas, they say the trap dead
n_ggas hidin’, we get on they ass, they try to act dead
know i’m goin’ to slide for my dogs, the tears not shed
my boy caught a brick brick of white, he think he brock lesmon
your work ain’t really worth the trip, you takin’ pay cuts
touch down and spend a loose five, she had an a_cup
rip my n_gga keef, he made a k!lling off an a_plus
hit a n_gga b_tch, she found out they kiss and made up
took a big loss, took us three trips to gеt it made up
my one fiend stay with mе and brodie when we shaved up
he wanted bro, but wore a wire on me, we got the same plug
trap n_ggas’ll go and step on bugs before they raid us
[chorus]
y’all rather pay a thousand for the sauce, i show you how to eat
y’all n_ggas wanna know the recipe, i’ll teach you how to—
know we spendin’ more than ten bands if we come out the bag
i be with all rich n_ggas like i’m robert kraft
my b_tches make me spend it all on purses, swear they got it bad
these n_ggas fake, they hide they true face like they got a mask
lil’ n_gga all in the club like he got some cash
that light sh_t, i make him spend it all and i ain’t gotta brag
[verse 2]
the feds, they don’t like us on the road, they say we get too brave
the cut good, we tryna make a whole, we split a brick two ways
brodie ain’t put in on the bag, i guess that’s his mistake
if you ain’t struggle how i struggled, you can’t get a plate
the opps know we slidin’ and we shootin’ before we hit the brakes
instead of tryna bust they lil’ guns, they tryna get the plates
my fiends put syringes in they arm to try to get they crank
lil’ bro did thirty for a day, he made me sixty_eight
they know we the closest thing to jesus, we the biggest gods
b_tch, we always on the red side, forever fifty_five
prayin’ for my dogs that got an l that ain’t got sh_t but time
n_ggas really mad we sell weight and they nickel dime
we be in the bay, but brodie rollie pacific time
the money, it’s a cup, sip the drank like our liver dyin’
we get bored and wanna see some ass, we bring some chicken out
we ain’t really tryna drink no liquor, give the strippers rounds
[chorus]
y’all rather pay a thousand for the sauce, i show you how to eat
y’all n_ggas wanna know the recipe, i’ll teach you how to—
know we spendin’ more than ten bands if we come out the bag
i be with all rich n_ggas like i’m robert kraft
my b_tches make me spend it all on purses, swear they got it bad
these n_ggas fake, they hide they true face like they got a mask
lil’ n_gga all in the club like he got some cash
that light sh_t, i make him spend it all and i ain’t gotta brag
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