album cover
artist
Quin NFN
We Got
10.138
Hip-Hop/Rap
We Got adlı parça albümünün bir parçası olarak NFN Entertainment / EMPIRE tarafından 17 Mart 2023 tarihinde yayınlandıNever On Time
album cover
En Popüler
Geçtiğimiz 7 Gün
00:15 - 00:20
We Got geçen hafta yaklaşık 15 saniye civarında en sık keşfedilen şarkı oldu
00:00
00:15
00:30
01:05
01:20
01:50
00:00
02:04

GENEL BAKIŞ

ŞARKI SÖZLERI

Müzik Videosu

Müzik Videosu

Krediler

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Quin NFN
Quin NFN
Vocals
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Master Plan
Master Plan
Mastering Engineer
Stan Greene
Stan Greene
Mastering Engineer

Şarkı sözleri

Pew, pew, pew, pew, pew
Yuh, yuh
We got some rocket, ice, some pills some weed some lean and Chardonnay
I got a ratchet, classy, bougie, basic, bitch from cross the way
We tote Choppas, Glocks, and Rugers ain’t no room to conversate
We got Benz's Porsche's, Beamers, Scats, and Cats that cost a bank
In the club with all these hustlers, trappers, rappers
And these robbers
She gon' fuck when I say "Fuck" just for Celine, Gucci, and Prada
In the section standing on couches wit' my patna's they can’t stop us
We been clutchin' on all of these Gats
Like we Mad Max and Biggs from Shottas (Ha)
We sell quarter, halves, and zips, we got Qp's, bowls, and all
She a stripper I'm gon' flip her knock her down and break her jaw
**** quick to claim a bitch
But knowing that bitch ain’t claiming ya'll
She only dancin', put me in his mentions I still play around
You get one or two or more, fuck the price we drop it down
You can pay me for your check, I spit that crack like Bobby Brown
**** loud until we draw that (Pew, pew, pew) make not a sound
She out the projects, if she got low mileage, I might knock her down
Bitch we strapped with ARPs, red roamin' DOA
When I walked inside the club, I'm having chips like Frito-Lay
**** muggin' in this bitch we asked that boy "Is he ok?"
Fuck it, I don't see your base, oh momma come get me yo' face
We got some rocket, ice, some pills some weed some lean and Chardonnay
I got a ratchet, classy, bougie, basic, bitch from cross the way
We tote Choppas, Glocks, and Rugers ain’t no room to conversate
We got Benz's Porsche's, Beamers, Scats, and Cats that cost a bank
In the club with all these hustlers, trappers, rappers and these robbers
She gon' fuck when I say "Fuck" just for Celine, Gucci, and Prada
In the section standing on couches wit' my patna's they can’t stop us
We been clutchin' on all of these Gats
Like we Mad Max and Biggs from Shottas (Yeah, yeah)
Written by: Quin NFN

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