album cover
Need Shells
20
Hip-Hop/Rap
Need Shells was released on April 18, 2025 by Cegular Records as a part of the album Cegregation
album cover
Release DateApril 18, 2025
LabelCegular Records
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM73

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Whyceg
Whyceg
Performer
iam3hard
iam3hard
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Cyrus Gomez
Cyrus Gomez
Songwriter
Jami Bowles
Jami Bowles
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Whyceg
Whyceg
Producer

Lyrics

Saint Paul trippin' on this
I'm startin' to think I need help
I'm in this F-150 speedin' without no seatbelt
Hit through the backstreet, I flip my clip, I need shells
Run like an athlete, we caught his ass, post at the cell
Post like a mailbox, but I'm not waiting on no mail
And we got high Glocks, catch a **** down cold and he melt
And fuck a high boss, have a young **** walk you down like stairs
We spin like Ferris wheel if we ever catch a **** at the fair
I'll serve a clientele, I just hope my clients never tell
I need an AP, I'ma match that bitch with a Cartier
This Glock no safety, if you play with me you go to hell
This little bitch hate me and she don't care about her oral health
You can't hang around me if you ain't my kinda ****
Everybody around keep them a stick, like they're blind, ****
Before you walk outside, don't look through the blinds, ****
I spill codeine on the AP, I'm wastin' time, ****
I got domances, I keep looking through the refrigerator
Get a bitch a pill, that lil' hoe gon' hit the percolator
Always do for y'all, why the hell y'all can't do me a favor?
Every time I pop out, there's some drip, it be a different flavor
This not a regular Bentley, we inside this Bentayga
There's not no new kill, I swear them youngas Ben faced him
Other side mad, 'cause they can't pull no champs to this table
This hoe a tiger, she got scraps on her like a Bengals player
I'm startin' to think I need help
I'm in this F-150 speedin' without no seatbelt
Hit through the backstreet, I flip my clip, I need shells
Run like an athlete, we caught his ass, post at the cell
Post like a mailbox, but I'm not waiting on no mail
And we got high Glocks, catch a **** down cold and he melt
And fuck a high boss, have a young **** walk you down like stairs
We spin like Ferris wheel if we ever catch a **** at the fair
Written by: Cyrus Gomez, Jami Bowles
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