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letra de what you need - opmquan

[intro]
big money goblin
big money goblin
ima give em’ what they want
ha ha let’s get it (brrr)

[verse 1]
wake up now it’s back to the operation
if you know me then you know whats the topic of conversation
way too many dependents for my time to go to wastin’
somebody show me the bread n-ggas making from all this hatin’
your status don’t impress me, i don’t care about what you had
and sh-t gon disappear, if n-ggas knock you out just move rag
i won’t hesitate to let it go like a shoe tag
or maybe i just leave a n-gga cripple like a blue flag (ha ha)
you know the last name that mean i been gettin’ cake
i was born in my bag like the water didn’t break
let my son play with money that my wallet couldn’t take
i’m on a different type of wave it’s like i found it in a lake
i know i’m still a youngin but my mind is like an older me
made it through the jungle cause my god be watching over me
hungry but i’m humble, probably why they never notice me
plot behind my back but i won’t let n0body shoulder me
i used to get faded, wouldn’t stop til i was knocked out
remember sneaking out and coming back and i was locked out
if i ain’t getting paid, then i probably ain’t gon pop out
i was flipping burgers, sweating bullets tryna clock out
situations got sticky, but i promise i ain’t switch once
been out all winter, and i ain’t even slip once
how you cashing out, but your pieces never hit once
my summer was litty, word to bl–dy we ain’t clip once
she know i got bag that’s why she tryna throw it at me
but, b-tch won’t get the chance, i swear my wifey super nasty and
i used to get dub but not they all be tryna gas me
b-tches feenin just to touch me but they used to call me ashy
protected when i travel, i be speedin on the highway
[?] be moving white, look like he shoveling a driveway
homie tryna pay me when he want, that ain’t my way
owed me on a thursday, he went missing on a friday
i’m in the kitchen with my mans, we just tryna get those commas back
your bankroll don’t last, where obama at
all my prezzi’s dead, where osama at
my son never caught me crying, where the llama at
dead bodies tryna haunt, i be doing the most
but i ain’t running from the spirits, catch me shooting a ghost
not every day is promised, so i’m trying not to waste time
security for who, body guarded through my waste line
you ain’t a boss if you get lost when the set fall
i’m tryna link my n-gga, ain’t tryna collect call
they tryna send my n-gga outta the country just for a gun
needa get my man a bond, i’m tired of pressing 1
he was sittin in a box when he turned 21
and to top it off, he don’t even get to see his son
could you believe in it, this is how the government is treatin it
we lost in they sauce, we ain’t nothing but ingredients

[outro]

- opmquan

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