russell! - what u need lyrics
[produced by joey castellani]
[hook]
baby, i got what you need
arms out like the city is mine
tell ’em they won’t ever stop my shine
baby, i got what you need
bad b-tches, all the prettiest dimes
put your fingers in the air one time
baby, i got what you need
i don’t know where i’m going
tell them other dudes they better take notes
baby, i got what you need
on the way up with my main crew
b-tch, i always repped the same crew
baby, i got what you need
[verse 1]
headed to the cribo
p-ssenger seat reclining, arm hanging out the window
man of my city, please let these kids know
hydraulic with the money like a 6-4
baby, please, for the women that like the squad a lot
daddy’s back home, i’m your baby, baby, no oshy kosh
more money i make, the more haters just talk that la-di-da
that’s why i’m posted up with the whole squad at a coffee shop
i’m all hova with a cold shoulder
i give a f-ck bout your accolades and your old quotas
it’s bout what you’re doing now, so if you’re testing me
i don’t give a f-ck and all your credits ain’t impressing me
you gotta be a pro to play the sport by me
b-tch, i’m so close to the game i’m like a court side seat
kids in my city, color envy man, they so love green
i can see why they don’t like me
[hook]
[verse 2]
since amy ain’t texting me back
i’ma work h-lla hard so i can flex on her -ss
i need more of this six figures, dressing ridiculous
i’m backed up by being me while you’re sending her d-ck pictures
you f-ck boy, comfortable, cozy, no one could stop us
chilling, popping some bubbly with hoes in polo pajamas
and my mom tryna tell me quit smoking, i’m trying baby but life is crazy
still optimistic and my team sl!ck on it
they’re jealous, no nick jonas
got liam rocking that ‘preme, sena rocking that rick owens
and me, human crack in the flesh, i’m the last of the best
one word to describe me: the master of flex
my main motive is to get that cash
got hoes screaming the set name like dipset back
you’re invited to my life, it’s super-sized with uber drivers
to the sky, we’re super high, don’t lose your sight
[hook]
[break]
richvale
marsmg on a f-ck boy
i’m not done yet
[verse 3]
the kid they deemed so atrocious i (w)rap around them like cobras
give these b-tches my tip, not talking waitress or hostess
i’m striking at them like old slim, oj, murderer, oj
do numbers like coldplay, buy that porsche in cocaine
now i don’t mean real cocaine, i’m tryna buy a white whip
money like old tyson, money like i ran the dope game
they on my ’09 swag, you rappers looking so lame
i’m superman, they lo’ lane
do it myself, no cobain
never claimed to be a king but i’m close to it
a little different, i don’t play the game like most do it
they want to watch my show, when money comes the hoes tune in
i got my foot in their -ss, boy, my whole shoe in
what kind of lane you wanna take? is it rap, pop or what?
prizzy, make up your mind
you little b-tch, i’m running this whole sh-t
just wait till it’s my time
[outro]
baby, i got what you need
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