Search lyrics

Typing something do you want to search. Exam: Artist, Song, Album,Writer, Release Year...
if you want to find exactly, Please input keywords with double-quote or using multi keywords. Exam: "Keyword 1" "Keyword 2"

Joe Budden

Genres: Hip-Hop

I Gotta Ask Lyrics - Joe Budden

Look, standing in the cypher rocking 

To driving some of the hottest cars New Jersey's ever seen 

To dropping some of the dopest mixtapes that you ever heard 

And it's all courtesy of weed, a couple of Percs, and lean, baby 

I wish you niggas that would owe me some bread would come and drop it off 

I wish she start tongueing a girl, but she won't pop it off 

Wish I knew you wasn't with the shit, so what you hopping for? 

When pussy's thrown your way every nanosecond it's not an option ya'll 

Normally a sponge, but this some shit I just cannot absorb 

Why ya'll are dressed like Metro Boomin? I wish you would knock it off 

Wish the best MC didn't mean who is more popular 

But I just booked my next nine months, ready to lock and more 

 

Money is a lot to grab 

Before we get to it there's a question that I gotta ask 

Where's all my niggas with the rubber grips? (bust shots) 

And if you with me mama, I'm rubbin' ya tits, and whatnot 

 

I hear they thinkin' bout speakin' my name 

Bet if they could I'm takin bets 

Money on my hood, money on me, I'm good 

Money on the wood, money on wishin' that money would 

That's him against the wild life 

And I got money on the woods, baby 

Two bitches, three's company, how I half with her 

This Hennessy don't do the trick, then watch this Jack trip her 

I'm tryna' buy a compound, I need the pad bigger 

Thats seven bed rooms, eight and half baths, I figure 

Bad strippers, and fraudulent hourglass figures 

Got every bartender thinkin' she'll get a glass slipper 

You see a line of bottles comin', guess who orderin' 'em 

I'm pointin' at one, they all coming in 

Every rapper in your crew, my crew is slaughtering them 

Put vegetables in your house, nobody walking again 

What time you get off, I'm showing up there 

Nine in one hand, .45 in the other, round quarter to ten 

 

I mean, the money is a lot to grab 

Before we get into there's a question that I gotta ask 

Wheres all my niggas with the rubber grips? (bust shots) 

And if you with me ma, I'm rubbin' ya tits, and whatnot 

Writer:

Copyright: Song Discussions Is Protected By U.s. Patent 9401941. Other Patents Pending.