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yg - my nigga remix lyrics

[verse 1: yg]
i’m talkin ’bout puttin’ on, ridin’ out
glocks in my ma’s house
front you with that work
(i done front a n-gg-‘s work)
you say you want that head up
but we don’t fight fair brah
catch you slippin’ from your backside, then knock you out
ace gone stomp you out, then buddah gon’ stomp you out
(has momma ever see you with a busted eye and busted mouth)
nine milli pokin’ out, 4 fizzy pokin’ out
death row days show you what this west coast about

[verse 2: lil wayne]
i’d die for my motherf-ckin’ n-gg-
jump in front a bullet for my motherf-ckin’ n-gg-
on the stand i’d lie for my motherf-ckin’ n-gg-
rob a bank, i’d drive for my motherf-ckin’ n-gg-
real talk, i don’t really f-ck with too many n-gg-s
cause n-gg-s drop a dime on you like a couple nickels
i be laughin’ to the bank like the f-ckin’ money tickle
drivin’ somethin’ that you ain’t, top off, suck a nipple
and i never put a ho before my bro
don’t beef over no ho
and my n-gg-s sellin’ keys if you can’t open your door
hope you ride for my motherf-ckin’ n-gg-s
when it rains it pours, it’s dry for me and my f-ckin’ n-gg-s
i kill for my motherf-ckin’ n-gg-s
vice versa, eyes red from the kush i blew
white person, got my middle finger on the trigger
with my little finger to you n-gg-s
i swear it’s f-ck all y’all n-gg-s
except my n-gg-s
tunechi!

[hook: rich homie quan & lil wayne]
i said that i’mma ride for my motherf-ckin’ n-gg-s
most likely i’mma die with my finger on the trigger
i’ve been grindin outside all day with my n-gg-s
and i ain’t goin’ in unless i’m with my n-gg-s
my n-gg-, my n-gg-
my n-gg-, my n-gg- (my motherf-ckin’ n-gg-s!)
my n-gg-, my n-gg- (my n-gg-, my n-gg-)
my n-gg-, my n-gg-

[verse 3: meek mill]
i done spent a million dollars on my motherf-ckin’ n-gg-s
you can catch me out chicago with them motherf-ckin’ hittas
call in rondonumbanine, lil durk will bring the trigger
and when we on that lean, we ain’t f-ckin’ with the liquor
i’m a buy a hundred bottles just to give it to the b-tches
she can like it on my b-tches
cause she see the way i ball, how my wrist and that be lit up
catch you at the red light, have em screamin’ â€œcan’t get up”
same n-gg- from the bottom ain’t a d-mn thing change
catch me out in collins screamin’ “money ain’t a thang”
and them red mulsanne, lookin’ like i claim blood
and if homie ain’t my homie than i know it ain’t love
screamin’ out “4 hunnid,â€ yg that’s my n-gg-
cause i been in the field life on the line with him
and if it’s really good, why i prolly die with em
cause when i need the choppers, i just tell tock hit em

[verse 4: nicki minaj]
i just got 250 thousand dollars for a verse, n-gg-
i don’t know, is it me or it’s your thirst, n-gg-?
you n-gg-s ain’t got no joints
like a injured chris paul, you ain’t got no point
i just come through with a couple bossy b-tches
they get money too, they some “don’t cross me” b-tches
flossy b-tches, sergio rossi, b-tches
and if we at the game then it’s floor seat, b-tches!
i ride for my b-tches
i’m so f-ckin’ rich i cop rides for my b-tches
dollar menu fries apple pies other b-tches
i drop a freestyle and get a rise outta b-tches
b-tches, my b-tches
i need a n-gg- with some different strokes, todd bridges
shout out to my main b-tches, and my side b-tches
need a n-gg- with some good neck, ostriches
my n-gg-s

[outro: nicki minaj]
new york to compton
got yg with me so don’t get stomped in
you know who the f-ck it is
i done preheated my oven to 350 degrees b-tch
and when it come out, it’s gon’ burn you b-tches like
you better get your motherf-ckin’ oven mitt, b-tch!

- yg lyrics

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