My Nigga ft. Jeezy, Rich Homie Quan (Explicit)

My Nigga
YG
EXPLICIT
I'm talkin 'bout puttin' on, ridin' out; Glocks in my ma's house
Front you with that work (I done fronted niggas work - OH-OHHH!)
You say you want that head up but we don't fight fair brah
Catch you slippin' from your backside, they knock you out
Ace gon' 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, fo-fizzy pokin' out
Death Row days, show you what this West Coast about

I'd die for my motherfuckin' nigga
Jump in front a bullet for my motherfuckin' nigga
On the stand I'd lie for my motherfuckin' nigga
Rob a bank, I'd drive for my motherfuckin' nigga
Real talk, I don't really fuck with too many niggas
Cause niggas drop a dime on you like a couple nickels
I be laughin' to the bank like the fuckin' money tickle
Drivin' somethin' that you ain't, top boss, suck a nipple
And I never put a ho before my bro, don't beef over no ho
And my niggas sell them keys if you can't open your door
Hope you ride for my motherfuckin' niggas
When it rains it pours, it's dry for me and my fuckin' niggas, he-heh
I kill for my motherfuckin' niggas
Vice versa, eyes red from the kush I blew white person
Got my middle finger on the trigger and with my little finger to you niggas
I swear it's fuck all y'all niggas... except my niggas
OWW! Tunechi!

I said that I'mma ride for my motherfuckin' nigga
Most likely I'mma die with my finger on the trigger
I've been grindin outside all day with my niggas
(And I ain't goin' in unless I'm with my nigga)
(My nigga, my nigga...)
(My nigga, my nigga) My motherfuckin' niggas!
(My nigga, my nigga) My nigga, my nigga
My nigga, my nigga - yeah...

Ohh! I done spent a million dollars on my motherfuckin' niggas (stacks)
You catch me out Chicago with them motherfuckin' hittas (stacks)
Call in RondoNumbaNine, Lil Durk will bring the trigger (Durk!)
And when we on that lean, we ain't fuckin' with the liquor (no)
I'm a buy a hundred bottles just to give it to the bitches (to the bitches)
...She keep likin' all my pictures
Cause she see the way I ball, how my wrist and that be lit up
Catch you at the red light, have 'em screamin' "Can't get up!" (YOU CAN'T)
Same nigga from the bottom, ain't a damn thing change
C-C-Catch me out in Collins screamin' "Money ain't a thang"
In a red Mulsanne, lookin' like I claim blood
And if homie ain't my homie then I know it ain't love
Screamin' out "4 Hunnid!" YG that's my nigga (my nigga)
Cause I been in the field life on the line wit' him (line wit' him)
And if it's really good, why I prolly die wit' 'em (die wit' 'em)
Cause when I need the choppers, I just tell Tock hit 'em - WHOA!

I said that I'mma ride for my motherfuckin' nigga
Most likely I'mma die with my finger on the trigger
I've been grindin outside all day with my niggas
(And I ain't goin' in unless I'm with my nigga)
(My nigga, my nigga...)
(My nigga, my nigga) My motherfuckin' niggas!
(My nigga, my nigga) My nigga, my nigga
My nigga, my nigga - yeah...

I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I just got 250 thousand dollars for a verse, nigga
I-I don't know, is it me or it's your thirst, nigga?
You nig, you niggas ain't got no joints
Like a injured Chris Paul, you ain't got no point
I just come through with a couple bossy bitches
They get money too, they some "don't cross me bitches"
Flossy bitches, Sergio Rossi, bitches
And if we at the game then it's floor seat, bitches!
I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I ride for my bitches
I'm so fuckin' rich I cop rides for my bitches
Dollar menu fries, apple pies, other bitches
I drop a freestyle and get a rise outta bitches; bitches, my bitches
I need a nigga with some (Diff'rent Strokes) -- Todd Bridges
Shout out to my MAIN bitches and my side bitches
Need a nigga with some good neck -- ostriches
...My niggas

I said that I'mma ride for my motherfuckin' nigga
Most likely I'mma die with my finger on the trigger
I've been grindin outside all day with my niggas
(And I ain't goin' in unless I'm with my nigga)
(My nigga, my nigga...)
(My nigga, my nigga) My motherfuckin' niggas!
(My nigga, my nigga) My nigga, my nigga
My nigga, my nigga - yeah...

New York to Compton
Got YG with me so don't get stomped in, uh-huh
Y'all know who the fuck it is
See I done preheated my oven to 350 degrees, BITCH!!
And when you come out, it's gon' burn you bitches like
You better get your motherfuckin' oven mitt, BITCH!
{"Mustard on the beat, ho!"} HA-HAAAAA!!!
Written by: Calvin Broadus, Jay Jenkins, Craig Lawson, Dijon Mcfarlane, Dequantes Lamar, Corey Miller, Mikely Adam, Awood Johnson, Keenon Jackson

Album: No Equal, Vol. 3

Released: 2014