Back to Top

What You Need Video (MV)




Performed By: Bossman Dlow
Featuring: NoCap
From Album: Dlow Curry
Language: English
Length: 3:18
Written by: Devante McCreary, Kobe Crawford
Year: 2024




Bossman Dlow - What You Need Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring NoCap ]

Tune in, I'm tellin' you
I'm droppin' nothin' but gas
Foot on the motherf*ckin' gas, you hear me?
Yeah, Big Za
Big Za, yeah, huh

I'm a real trapper, tell me what you need (brrt-brrt)
Yeah, bitch, this a McLaren, I can't do nothin' but speed (yoom)
Left Klub 24 and blew a damn thirty (damn thirty)
Ayy, pull up, hop out cleaner than some damn detergent
Yeah, huh, that's my lil' shit, she missus perfect (come here, baby)
Yeah, and my pockets stuffed like a turkey (beep, beep, beep)
Huh, I'm the motherf*ckin' biggest, boy, let's make a bet
Huh, I'll pull up in some shit, make bitches break they neck (yoom)

I'll pull up in some shit'll make your jaw drop (jaw drop)
Lemon yellow 'Vette, come through lookin' like a cough drop (skrrt)
You can't sit on my lap, baby, I paid too much for these jeans
Might go Rolls-Royce Culli', blue inside like Listerine
She say, "Daddy, when I'ma see you?" I say, "Let me check my schedule"
I got 250K in twenties 'cause it look better
Broke, bum-ass bitch, tell me where you live at?
Who me? I'ma get a sack like Khalil Mack (yeah)
Thinkin' 'bout it now, I probably spent a half a mil' on clothes (yeah)
I just went on tour, I gave away money at all my shows (Big Za)
Oh, that's Dlow bendin' the block, get your kids out the road (yoom)
I got a lot of dog shit on me, you better cover up your nose

I'm a real trapper, tell me what you need (brrt-brrt)
Yeah, bitch, this a McLaren, I can't do nothin' but speed (yoom)
Left Klub 24 and blew a damn thirty (damn thirty)
Ayy, pull up, hop out cleaner than some damn detergent
Yeah, huh, that's my lil' shit, she missus perfect (come here, baby)
Yeah, and my pockets stuffed like a turkey (beep, beep, beep)
Huh, I'm the motherf*ckin' biggest, boy, let's make a bet
Huh, I'll pull up in some shit, make bitches break they neck (yoom)

I got tired of foreign cars, f*ck 'round, got a Chevy mounted
Christmas, I told Santa Claus, "Just bring me a money counter"
Bro seen too many of his niggas get put in a suit, that's why that blick got a button
I know I shouldn't be mixin' the family with business, I still give a job to my cousins
I'm out in London with a bad bitch, look like Tommy, I pay to remove her gut
Ask her, can she make it clap, she can make it talk instead
Do CPR on the bando, who the f*ck said trappin' dead?
Send a nigga straight to heaven, roll him up, then we inhale him
She bad and she don't hurt for nothin', shawty got her shit together
My jeweler, he on speed dial, I should slow down on this glitter
Nightmares on that Maybach pillow, guess this shit ain't what it seem
NoCap, Michael Jackson Thriller
Stuff a billi' in my jeans

I'm a real trapper, tell me what you need (brrt-brrt)
Yeah, bitch, this a McLaren, I can't do nothin' but speed (yoom)
Left Klub 24 and blew a damn thirty (damn thirty)
Ayy, pull up, hop out cleaner than some damn detergent
Yeah, huh, that's my lil' shit, she missus perfect (come here, baby)
Yeah, and my pockets stuffed like a turkey (beep, beep, beep)
Huh, I'm the motherf*ckin' biggest, boy, let's make a bet
Huh, I'll pull up in some shit, make bitches break they neck (yoom)

I'm cleanin' every stain, that's if you think 'bout murkin' me
She was everything before she got her surgery
Ride with three thousand shots, I'm feelin' like I'm Andre
I popped a half a pill, now she look like Beyoncé
Me and Dlow pull up back to back, shit like scoliosis
Know I should've been the quarterback, I got too much motion
Most of these niggas ain't never slain no one, but they know how to troll
Come to my block, this shit like UFC, the trap be full of bowls
I'm in Miami, slidin' in the Huracán like I'm Cameron or Jacob
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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


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


English

Tune in, I'm tellin' you
I'm droppin' nothin' but gas
Foot on the motherf*ckin' gas, you hear me?
Yeah, Big Za
Big Za, yeah, huh

I'm a real trapper, tell me what you need (brrt-brrt)
Yeah, bitch, this a McLaren, I can't do nothin' but speed (yoom)
Left Klub 24 and blew a damn thirty (damn thirty)
Ayy, pull up, hop out cleaner than some damn detergent
Yeah, huh, that's my lil' shit, she missus perfect (come here, baby)
Yeah, and my pockets stuffed like a turkey (beep, beep, beep)
Huh, I'm the motherf*ckin' biggest, boy, let's make a bet
Huh, I'll pull up in some shit, make bitches break they neck (yoom)

I'll pull up in some shit'll make your jaw drop (jaw drop)
Lemon yellow 'Vette, come through lookin' like a cough drop (skrrt)
You can't sit on my lap, baby, I paid too much for these jeans
Might go Rolls-Royce Culli', blue inside like Listerine
She say, "Daddy, when I'ma see you?" I say, "Let me check my schedule"
I got 250K in twenties 'cause it look better
Broke, bum-ass bitch, tell me where you live at?
Who me? I'ma get a sack like Khalil Mack (yeah)
Thinkin' 'bout it now, I probably spent a half a mil' on clothes (yeah)
I just went on tour, I gave away money at all my shows (Big Za)
Oh, that's Dlow bendin' the block, get your kids out the road (yoom)
I got a lot of dog shit on me, you better cover up your nose

I'm a real trapper, tell me what you need (brrt-brrt)
Yeah, bitch, this a McLaren, I can't do nothin' but speed (yoom)
Left Klub 24 and blew a damn thirty (damn thirty)
Ayy, pull up, hop out cleaner than some damn detergent
Yeah, huh, that's my lil' shit, she missus perfect (come here, baby)
Yeah, and my pockets stuffed like a turkey (beep, beep, beep)
Huh, I'm the motherf*ckin' biggest, boy, let's make a bet
Huh, I'll pull up in some shit, make bitches break they neck (yoom)

I got tired of foreign cars, f*ck 'round, got a Chevy mounted
Christmas, I told Santa Claus, "Just bring me a money counter"
Bro seen too many of his niggas get put in a suit, that's why that blick got a button
I know I shouldn't be mixin' the family with business, I still give a job to my cousins
I'm out in London with a bad bitch, look like Tommy, I pay to remove her gut
Ask her, can she make it clap, she can make it talk instead
Do CPR on the bando, who the f*ck said trappin' dead?
Send a nigga straight to heaven, roll him up, then we inhale him
She bad and she don't hurt for nothin', shawty got her shit together
My jeweler, he on speed dial, I should slow down on this glitter
Nightmares on that Maybach pillow, guess this shit ain't what it seem
NoCap, Michael Jackson Thriller
Stuff a billi' in my jeans

I'm a real trapper, tell me what you need (brrt-brrt)
Yeah, bitch, this a McLaren, I can't do nothin' but speed (yoom)
Left Klub 24 and blew a damn thirty (damn thirty)
Ayy, pull up, hop out cleaner than some damn detergent
Yeah, huh, that's my lil' shit, she missus perfect (come here, baby)
Yeah, and my pockets stuffed like a turkey (beep, beep, beep)
Huh, I'm the motherf*ckin' biggest, boy, let's make a bet
Huh, I'll pull up in some shit, make bitches break they neck (yoom)

I'm cleanin' every stain, that's if you think 'bout murkin' me
She was everything before she got her surgery
Ride with three thousand shots, I'm feelin' like I'm Andre
I popped a half a pill, now she look like Beyoncé
Me and Dlow pull up back to back, shit like scoliosis
Know I should've been the quarterback, I got too much motion
Most of these niggas ain't never slain no one, but they know how to troll
Come to my block, this shit like UFC, the trap be full of bowls
I'm in Miami, slidin' in the Huracán like I'm Cameron or Jacob
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Devante McCreary, Kobe Crawford
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Back to: Bossman Dlow


Tags:
No tags yet