Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Love Me No More, artist - Jim Jones. Date of issue: 08.05.2010
Song language: English
Love Me No More |
| Tryna get up out the ghetto |
| Now how the Hood talkin bout they don’t need me no more |
| (What'chu want me stuck in the ghetto, listen I’m a get out) |
| Cause a mu’fucka push that GT |
| (Then you what, I’m a come back for the niggas need to be reached for) |
| It’s a problem tryna take that from me |
| (You niggas is slippin) |
| Cause I’m packin heavy metal uhhuh |
| I hear the streets talking funny (shit) |
| So I laugh (haha) tell em keep talking funny (keep talking funny) |
| I’m a keep talking money (yup) |
| And all different types (what) |
| The yens and the pounds (pounds) |
| Nigga just for spite push, the Bentley round town (sparrows) |
| Tripin' in ice I still be up town (Harlem) |
| I hear em kicking up dirt on my name (so what) |
| But I could clean em up like detergent on a stain |
| Or I’ll beam em up we got birdies on the chain (easy) |
| Respect my mind or respect my grind (cause what) |
| Gone to the bank when it’s cheque signing time (okay) |
| It’s Teterboro when it’s jet flying time (clear-port) |
| And we so thorough we the set fly or die (Dip Set) |
| The bitches funny I’m talking bout life (yup) |
| It was Sunday to Sunday on New York’s chilly nights (that's right) |
| And we was hungry nauseas for a bite |
| But if the world’s apple pie of course you want a slice (yup) |
| Now how u gon' tell me you don’t love me no more (hoe you gon' tell me that |
| Cause I’m out here getting this bread (you hatin on this paper chase) |
| Tryna get my Momma a crib |
| Tryna get up out the ghetto |
| How the Hood Talkin bout they don’t need me no more |
| Cause a mu’fucka push that GT |
| It’s a problem tryna take that from me |
| Cause I’m packin (Jones) heavy metal uhhuh |
| Heard somebody speak my name, but death was next to it (pray for me) |
| My next breath was let’s do it (kid) |
| Got me runnin through the game with my vest and my best shooters (who's next) |
| Best of event VVS and best ya jewellers (new year) |
| Nigga outta lame ya shit, gets chewed up (get em) |
| And I’m tryna kill the pain with like two sluts (what's up baby) |
| Use to say money ain’t a thang to I blew up (what) |
| Then money’s everything, but that thang can break your crew up (true stills) |
| Where did love go? |
| (where) |
| And where does that leave us? |
| (where we at) |
| They holdin' grudges on how they receive us (fa sho) |
| And show the judges on how they perceive us |
| Hate to see a thug Nigga whip the forein features (ballin) |
| Secretary’s that Condoleza (yup) |
| Cash first, secondary we use the visa (uh huh) |
| Blast first, never worry about police cuffs (nope) |
| Ya either leave us or you free us |
| I need money! |
| Now how u gon' tell me you don’t love me no more |
| Cause I’m out here getting this bread |
| Tryna get my Momma a crib |
| Tryna get up out the ghetto |
| How the Hood talkin bout they don’t need me no more |
| Cause a mu’fucka push that GT |
| It’s a problem tryna take that from me |
| Cause I’m packin heavy metal |