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Never Have (feat. Sonny Blakk) Video (MV)




Performed By: Prince CJ Da Poet
Language: English
Length: 2:48
Written by: Ricardo Mercado




Prince CJ Da Poet - Never Have (feat. Sonny Blakk) Lyrics




I don't give a motherf*ck, never have Pull up on you and I get a bag
We the type of niggas pull the trigger, never brag Custy love my shit, why you hatin', why you mad
I don't give a motherf*ck, never has Pull up on you and I get a bag
We the type of niggas pull the trigger, never brag Custy love my shit, why you hatin', why you mad

I think I know why he mad That bitch, she went lookin' sad
This chick, I'm with lookin' bad Get f*cked up, run up a bag
I'm bout to blow like throwin' frags Need more riches, no more rags
That's your soul extended mag That's your soul, bitch
Runnin' back, I said, where the f*ck he at? Where he at
Bullet in his chest, call that heart attack Blow him back, killed him for a couple racks
F*ckin' hit him, runnin' back He ain't comin' back
Shirt with his photograph, ugh

I don't give a motherf*ck, never have Pull up on you and I get a bag
We had to pull the trigger, didn't brag They fiendin' for my shit, why you hatin', why you mad
I don't give a motherf*ck, never have Pull up on you and I get a bag
We the type of niggas pull the trigger, never brag Custy love my shit, why you hatin', why you mad
I don't give a motherf*ck, never has Pull up on you and I get a bag
We the type of niggas pull the trigger, never brag Cause she love my shit, why you hatin', why you mad

Got the better work, so these bitches go berserk I've been chasin' on this turf, my bitch put you in the dirt
I've been cushy on the first, lose a 60, hit the search I've been puttin' in the work, go get the mixture, go berserk
I've been hustlin' in the trenches, this is dabblin', don't you mention
All my shooters carry Glocks with the extension, pay attention
Can't forget the Mac 11s, K8s, ARs, 30s, FNs All about the money nowadays, I'm countin' all my blessings
Make them go berserk, f*ck with us, get murked Represent the turf, if you scared, go to church
Find me where they surf, through all things, praise the Lord
If we gotta go, it's already written in the blood
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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I don't give a motherf*ck, never have Pull up on you and I get a bag
We the type of niggas pull the trigger, never brag Custy love my shit, why you hatin', why you mad
I don't give a motherf*ck, never has Pull up on you and I get a bag
We the type of niggas pull the trigger, never brag Custy love my shit, why you hatin', why you mad

I think I know why he mad That bitch, she went lookin' sad
This chick, I'm with lookin' bad Get f*cked up, run up a bag
I'm bout to blow like throwin' frags Need more riches, no more rags
That's your soul extended mag That's your soul, bitch
Runnin' back, I said, where the f*ck he at? Where he at
Bullet in his chest, call that heart attack Blow him back, killed him for a couple racks
F*ckin' hit him, runnin' back He ain't comin' back
Shirt with his photograph, ugh

I don't give a motherf*ck, never have Pull up on you and I get a bag
We had to pull the trigger, didn't brag They fiendin' for my shit, why you hatin', why you mad
I don't give a motherf*ck, never have Pull up on you and I get a bag
We the type of niggas pull the trigger, never brag Custy love my shit, why you hatin', why you mad
I don't give a motherf*ck, never has Pull up on you and I get a bag
We the type of niggas pull the trigger, never brag Cause she love my shit, why you hatin', why you mad

Got the better work, so these bitches go berserk I've been chasin' on this turf, my bitch put you in the dirt
I've been cushy on the first, lose a 60, hit the search I've been puttin' in the work, go get the mixture, go berserk
I've been hustlin' in the trenches, this is dabblin', don't you mention
All my shooters carry Glocks with the extension, pay attention
Can't forget the Mac 11s, K8s, ARs, 30s, FNs All about the money nowadays, I'm countin' all my blessings
Make them go berserk, f*ck with us, get murked Represent the turf, if you scared, go to church
Find me where they surf, through all things, praise the Lord
If we gotta go, it's already written in the blood
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Ricardo Mercado
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid


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