I need a little bit more Don't promise me tonight without tomorrow, too You gotta know what it's like Don't say you miss me when you don't call Don't say you love me unless you do I know you been here before I've been waiting, I've been patient But I

I'll come around If you ever want to be in love I'm not waiting, but I'm willing if you call me up Saw you today after so much time Felt just like it used to be Talking for hours 'bout a different life Surrounded us in memories We were close never close

Call me what you want but you can't call me broke Pull up with that choppa and a telescope Got 50 chickens in with me, runnin' around in my city Young rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys, rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys We makin' a motion picture,

I'm not leaving tonight Said, today she called here twenty-six times (I know you counted) You kept telling me not to worry (Don't worry 'bout it) Wanna believe that you're telling the truth (So don't doubt it) But if you are lying to me... You're leaving

Southside and East Side Gucci (We an army) They call me peacoat shawty, left wrist eight-forty (whoa) Gucci Mane home ballin' while your bank account fallin' (damn) Gucci Mane, I don't fear no one but God (on God) For fifty mil' I'll get in the ring and

In the middle of the night So when I call you in the middle of the night And I'm choking on the words 'cause I miss you Baby, don't tell me I'm out of time How you slipped through my hands I got so much of my loving to give you I keep coming back to that

Oh, down beside your red firelight Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go 'round Are you gonna let it all hang out? Fat bottomed girls Okay, okay! This is called, uh Fat Bottomed Girls! (One, two, three, four!) Are you gonna take me home

The door's open wide Come in from out of the rain So you stare Call it despair, baby Don't you care I'm on the square about you Let's have a try It maybe that you're my guy

(Yea-ah) (habit, ooh) Waking up in my bed Staying up till two It’s a symphony you sing to me I don’t know what else to do But make a habit of you (habit, ooh) ‘Cause you’re stuck in my head When you call out my name

Out in the streets, they call it murder Welcome to Jamrock Welcome to Jamrock, welcome to Jamrock Welcome to Jamrock, camp where the thugs dem camp at Two pound ah weed inna van back It inna your hand bag, your knapsack, it inna your backpack The smell