Lil Blade, G.T. - Had Too lyrics

Reuel, stop playin' with these niggas

I ain’t never lied
(No) , I ain’t had to (Never)
Nigga,  get up out my business
I ain’t ask you (I ain't ask you)
Fucked her and her best-friend
This what that bag do
(This what that bag do)
I ain’t trippin’ on you, baby, I done had you

I need a mansion, I need a fast coupe
I got a bad bitch, she gettin’ cash too
My nigga cookin’ up knot
We call it fast-food
Come fuck with us, show you what that cash do

I ain’t drop, it’s too much money bein’ made
(Too much)
If I show you what I did, you would be amazed
(Nigga) she don’t talk about her nigga
He must be a lame (He corny)
I ain’t comin’ out the crib
Unless I’m gettin’ paid (I ain't comin')
What y'all niggas doin’? Y'all
Ain’t doin’ shit
See my name up in her phone
Then you threw a fit y'all like Uncle Ice
I’m more like Money Mitch
Bitch, get her off my dick and
Go and get some chick
Your girl said she couldn’t wait
‘til I touched down
Whether it’s watches or the phones
They gettin’ bussed down
If I ain’t on it, then you know my niggas is
(You know my niggas is)
And all that rent a rental
When I pulled up in a Benz
Hurtin’ all these lil’ niggas’ feelin’s
That’s a bad habit
Me and cuz made a killin’ off them addresses
(What up, cuz?) in the A
Where I’m chillin’ with the baddest bitch
(The baddest) and you stuck up at the
Crib, still ain’t havin’ shit, nigga

I ain’t never lied
(No) , I ain’t had to (Never)
Nigga, get up out my business
I ain’t ask you (I ain't ask you)
Fucked her and her best-friend
This what that bag do
(This what that bag do)
I ain’t trippin’ on you, baby, I done had you

I need a mansion, I need a fast coupe
I got a bad bitch, she gettin’ cash too
My nigga cookin’ up knot
We call it fast-food
Come fuck with us, show you what that cash do

In one day, make a $100K
And I ain’t have to touch a pill
Did it off the weight
Switched rentals, now we in a different state
People switched in my face when
I got some cake for some odd reason
They think you owe ‘em some’
Same ones when I was down
They ain’t throw me nothin’
In and out of spots, hit another block
Why niggas worried ‘bout me?
Worry ‘bout your opps
Smokin’ on some runtz, pickin’ out a crop
I might rock the off-white and
Do the Gucci socks
My lil’ nigga scammed me, I fuck with grams
I don’t do no hand-to hands or the Instagram
The work come in, the trap finna slam
Nigga, close the curtains and
Watch for the van
This bitch on fire, NBA Jam
We got a plug on a fire in the grand tent

I ain’t never lied
(No) , I ain’t had to (Never)
Nigga, get up out my business
I ain’t ask you (I ain't ask you)
Fucked her and her best-friend
This what that bag do
(This what that bag do)
I ain’t trippin’ on you, baby, I done had you

I need a mansion, I need a fast coupe
I got a bad bitch, she gettin’ cash too
My nigga cookin’ up knot
We call it fast-food
Come fuck with us, show you what that cash do