Need More

[Verse 1: Joey Fatts] Been that nigga since I was conceived No bitch trace in my genes, my mama was a G Known to keep a pistol tucked in my dungarees And if a nigga try it, he gon' have to murder me On my mama Block hotter than Rwanda Stashing packs in my sister's Honda I know they heard that we serving But if they search they won't find them Out here grinding With a purpose, posted up like Andrew Bynum On the block Ray Allen with these shots (pop-pop) Put a nigga in a box Dump the Glock Where was you at? I forgot No pistol, no case Get out the next day Finessing that ye' I'm like James with that rock Put holes in his feet, now he walking with Christ Don't talk to these niggas, don't talk to these cops No love for these hoes I'm chasing this dough Get miles with that hooptie and then to a drop Uhhh, snitches don't live where I come from Pussy niggas get fucked if they want some I'm tryna get my mama out the fucking slums So I ain't bout to settle for no fucking crumbs [Refrain: Joey Fatts] Bible on the bed Pistol on the floor Police on our head Landlord at the door Lot of nights we wasn't fed Bred for the war So I ain't settling for shit Tell that bitch I need more (x3) Lot of nights we wasn't fed We was bred for the war [Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs] I'm from the place where the fucking police can't go Uhh, started from the bottom, can't reach that low Uhh, we getting dollars out a bitch, better teach that ho Uhh, whipping up the ice cream with some sweet yeyo My neighbor's all on that glass dick Tryna get high as that last hit Got me out here selling this crack shit Could've been a motherfucking draft pick Like first round, jail-bound Niggas get crossed out, nailed down Motherfuckers want a get a fade with me? Freddie Kane go the whole 12 rounds On my Mayweather shit Nigga tryna get Mayweather rich FG might break a ho But won't make a ho But I'll let you take care of the bitch 'Fore you crack that Hen', bless the fifth Can't a motherfucker live that test the clique Shout out to my (?) Motherfuck the police Nigga, we ain't scared of shit What it be like? [Refrain: Joey Fatts] Bible on the bed Pistol on the floor Police on our head Landlord at the door Lot of nights we wasn't fed Bred for the war So I ain't settling for shit Tell that bitch I need more (x3) Lot of nights we wasn't fed We was bred for the war