David Banner, Devin The Dude, Bun B - Gots to Go lyrics

Ain't no tellin' where I might be
I got places to go and people to see
Ain't no tellin' where I'll end up
I got shows to rock and hoes to fuck
Ain't no tellin' where I might go
Coast to Coast or just next do'
But, I gots to go, I gots to go eh, eh
(I gots to go) eh (go) , eh, eh
Eh (gotta go)

Roll up on that tour bus, smokin' a blunt
Then heard a (dunn dunn dunn dunn dunn) what
Yo' baby momma want?
Nothin' but good fuckin', dick suckin'
Train runnin'
She lickin' on my nuts, Cock to her ear
She hear me comin' watchin' me go
She swallowed cum, you kissed a hoe
Tongue and lip, all
Man you really lickin' my balls
"I heard you fucked my baby momma last night"
Nigga, nah
But she did bring weed, no seeds, sticks all
I'm lyin', when she come over
Cock lyin' in her jaw
Niggas all off in her drawers
And that's yo' baby mother
If it makes you feel better
She's a good dick sucker


My job takes me out of
Town on all-expense paid
Wakin' up with a hangover 2, 000 miles away
It seems easy: weed, women, and wine
Four hours of sleep is all you
Get - now it's time
To tally hoe to the show, a yo
Yo there they go bust through the do'
Rap & flow and grab a hoe
And get back in the van
With some titties in hand
Let her meet ya new friend
Who's willing to spend the whole night
Another flight, another gig, another city
Touchin' on somebody's baby momma's titties
Niggas in the lobby wonderin'
Where their women are
Third floor havin' a "Let's
Become a Bitch" Seminar
Can't get attached, I got a plane to catch
I wish I could a hit that, but I'll be back

Yo (huh) ain't no tellin' where I'm a be at
But, you know, I gotta go uh huh

Yeeah, man this the king
Of the chitlin' circuit, i'm I10'n in it
I'm paper chasin' and rap hustlin' it
Ain't no sin in it my money ain't a game
So I ain't worried bout winnin' it
I'm worried bout makin' it
Stackin' it and spendin' it
(and spendin' it)
Ain't no pretendin' it don't
Make the world move
Same way you can't pretend my shit
Don't make yo' girl groove
See, God work in myterious ways but I don't
(don't) and the devil will make a deal
Wit yo' ass but I won't (won't)
Now you can have the cleanest
Paint job on ya trucks
Six TVs, wood wit leather seats
Stitched and tucked
The biggest chrome rims, playa
I don't give a fuck if I holla at yo' bitch
Guarantee she gettin' buck
You can yell and you can scream and
You can fuss and you can fight
Like it's the worst night in yo' life
To me it's just another night
I ain't carin' bout ya drama
(uh) , or breakin' up ya home
You just a joke for the crew
And material for a song, mayne