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lirik lagu ta'raach - i name (e.g.i.g.)

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[intro: taraach & fuzz scoota]
what’s up, man?
what’s crackin’ over here, fam?
what’s good?! i ain’t see you in a minute, you ain’t been arounnnd, maaan
been hustling hard, man – been a cold winter
what they say? they say–what they say – “hustle hard or go home”?
i’m home, i’m at the house!
{~laughter~} shiiit…
well, sh~t, we’re f~ckin’ with the coast tonight, what’s good?
i can’t do it, i can’t f~ck with y’all (some b~tches…)
what’s good?!?
man, my cash ain’t long enough, i need the money
wooord?

[verse 1: fuzz scoota]
you know how it is when you don’t have no dough
beat the sh~t out of a n~gga if he don’t have yo’ dough
payday – this motherf~cker better have my dough
or i’m walkin’ in ya sh~t, tryna grab yo’ throat
chicks need money – seem like ass went up
n~ggas can’t joyride, ’cause the gas went up
tell a b~tch, “look, ho – i got еxpenses;
plus the pricе of ramen noodles done got expensive”
when a n~gga get broke, they get a passion to slang
got too much pride to be asking for change
too much integrity to be grabbing your chain
but that can change, and next week–i’m grabbing your chain
don’t become another body to add to the fame
somebody working on your tombstone, adding your name
your moms at the funeral, screaming, grabbing her brain
should have gave it up when they pulled out that magnum and aimed
[chorus]
i name every gun i get
you owe me, you gon’ run my sh~t
you don’t want n~ggas to run in your place,
stick a muhf~ckin’ gun in your face (you don’t want it)

i name every gun i get
you owe me, you gon’ run my sh~t
you don’t want n~ggas to run in ya house,
stick a muhf~ckin’ gun in ya mouth (you don’t want it)

[verse 2]
young n~gga like, “fuzz, gimme a day to get yo’ bread”
“oh, you better, motherf~cker – or i’ma split yo head”
when i get that bread, you don’t have to tip those feds
shove a gun in your mouth, make it fit in your head
i’m up early, hustling, while you sit in yo’ bed
if you don’t, then another n~gga gettin’ yo’ bread
i could work a 9 to 5, rather than spit instead
i wanna wake with a dimepiece l!cking on head
booty clapping, dawg, while she’s switching those legs
bringing coffee, like, “i’ll be back, i’m getting yo’ eggs”
walk in the garage – choose a ride that goes with the outfit
chicks like “who’s inside?”
not having dough and thought you might lose yo’ ride
repo man roll up, try and remove yo’ ride
that’s f~cked up – i just put shoes on the ride
they re~sell it, see another n~gga cruise in your ride
[chorus]
i name every gun i get
you owe me, you gon’ run my sh~t
you don’t want n~ggas to run in your place,
stick a muhf~ckin’ gun in your face (you don’t want it)

i name every gun i get
you owe me, you gon’ run my sh~t
you don’t want n~ggas to run in ya house,
stick a muhf~ckin’ gun in ya mouth (you don’t want it)

[verse 3]
phone ring – you answer and receive that statement
“your electric bill is due, we haven’t received that payment”
“what?!? who in the f~ck is this?!
callin’ me before i can get up and f~ckin’ p~ss?”
i hang up, i’m f~ckin’ p~ssed
and more disturbed, i don’t have trees to f~ckin’ twist
heat cut off and it’s f~ckin’ brisk
in detroit, walkin’ outta the crib is a f~ckin’ risk
i wanna see that carti’ watch on my f~ckin’ wrist
pull~up, chicks like, “d~mn, what kind of truck is this???”
fabric, smelling like the finest smoke,
walk in the jeweler, ask him ’bout the diamond quartz
f~ck being out here trying to find some smoke
they don’t have the kinda trees that i’m tryna smoke
i need o’s – can’t get by off these dimes of smoke
soon as i wake up, b~tch, i’m tryna smoke
[instrumental outro]


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