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You Gon' Starve Video (MV)




Performed By: Drank Sinatra
Length: 3:09
Written by: Cornelius Eaglin




Drank Sinatra - You Gon' Starve Lyrics
Official




Can't hang round a nigga
That's broke
Always ready to smoke
Never wanna get no dough
Trying talk bad to a ho
Cuz she ain't wanna give u no pussy
And didn't wanna pass u the dro
30 mutha f*cking years old
And u still selling Reggie
Yung niggas kicking in Ya do'
Trying to be a nigga that u not
Talking bout u getting gwap
But u still need a ride to the store
Sleeping on Ya Mutha fuccin couch
At Ya mama house
And always acting ungrateful
Hate to see another nigga grindin'
Especially if he shinin'
Nigga why U always hatin
Thinking you can fake it til u make it
Showing off in front of these broads
Fronting too hard...
True, everybody gotta eat
But you ain't put in no work
Then your ass gon starve... Nigga
I'm a get fat full
Fuxking wit the young wolves
Nigga we gon eat
Everything off of ya plate
Before you get offered a plate
The snub will go off in your face
Eating lobster and steak
Craccin shells while I'm staccin mail
On u bottom feeders
Po a potent 4
In a couple of liters
Crawfish and mud
Pulling hard on some diesel
Coke with the wings
Like i ordered pizza
Extra cheese on top
Strapped up when I meet Ya
I always keep it wit me
When I'm f*cking with people
Niggas acting like they starvin
Just be watching you eatin
But, F*ck all that beefin
Trying to get some attention
I'll empty that magazine
And have Ya mama nem missing you
I hope that u listening
Cuz u really a MARK
But I ain't gon shoot up yo kitchen
Cuz u already starvin
Yea I'm Eating on this bitch
Like the last meal
Im a leave the table scraps
On the ad libs
My girl sucking on me
Like I need an Advil
But can't nothing motivate you
Like A bag will
Beating up this white bitch
Til it's 4 a baby
Put a pamper on that bitch
Drop it on a Mercedes
I'm a Fi'e my nigga up
Cuz we been up gettin paper
And I ain't bout to go to sleep
Until I meet wit my maker
I'm driving miss daisy
Making old money
Picking up my lunch bags
Cuz I'm shol hungry
I Bend a couple corners
In this air conditioning
No text no call
Cuz Them Feds be listening
My GPS position
Turned off in my settings
And they gon have to do they job
If them hoes wanna catch me
But I'm a keep stepping
Cuz I gots ta go get it
Scared money is dead money
Thats why you starving lil nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Can't hang round a nigga
That's broke
Always ready to smoke
Never wanna get no dough
Trying talk bad to a ho
Cuz she ain't wanna give u no pussy
And didn't wanna pass u the dro
30 mutha f*cking years old
And u still selling Reggie
Yung niggas kicking in Ya do'
Trying to be a nigga that u not
Talking bout u getting gwap
But u still need a ride to the store
Sleeping on Ya Mutha fuccin couch
At Ya mama house
And always acting ungrateful
Hate to see another nigga grindin'
Especially if he shinin'
Nigga why U always hatin
Thinking you can fake it til u make it
Showing off in front of these broads
Fronting too hard...
True, everybody gotta eat
But you ain't put in no work
Then your ass gon starve... Nigga
I'm a get fat full
Fuxking wit the young wolves
Nigga we gon eat
Everything off of ya plate
Before you get offered a plate
The snub will go off in your face
Eating lobster and steak
Craccin shells while I'm staccin mail
On u bottom feeders
Po a potent 4
In a couple of liters
Crawfish and mud
Pulling hard on some diesel
Coke with the wings
Like i ordered pizza
Extra cheese on top
Strapped up when I meet Ya
I always keep it wit me
When I'm f*cking with people
Niggas acting like they starvin
Just be watching you eatin
But, F*ck all that beefin
Trying to get some attention
I'll empty that magazine
And have Ya mama nem missing you
I hope that u listening
Cuz u really a MARK
But I ain't gon shoot up yo kitchen
Cuz u already starvin
Yea I'm Eating on this bitch
Like the last meal
Im a leave the table scraps
On the ad libs
My girl sucking on me
Like I need an Advil
But can't nothing motivate you
Like A bag will
Beating up this white bitch
Til it's 4 a baby
Put a pamper on that bitch
Drop it on a Mercedes
I'm a Fi'e my nigga up
Cuz we been up gettin paper
And I ain't bout to go to sleep
Until I meet wit my maker
I'm driving miss daisy
Making old money
Picking up my lunch bags
Cuz I'm shol hungry
I Bend a couple corners
In this air conditioning
No text no call
Cuz Them Feds be listening
My GPS position
Turned off in my settings
And they gon have to do they job
If them hoes wanna catch me
But I'm a keep stepping
Cuz I gots ta go get it
Scared money is dead money
Thats why you starving lil nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Cornelius Eaglin
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid


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