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we got a reason freestyle - sheek louch lyrics

[intro: sheek louch]
sheek louch (yeah)
j hood (poob what up)
(haaa)
yeah (yeah)

[verse 1: sheek louch & j hood]
talk to me baby, let’s bounce (bounce)
yak already poured, i’m sittin’ on a ounce (ounce)
coupe already parked, i’m sittin’ on a couch (haha)
d*ck already out now put it in your mouth, ha haaa (take that, take that)
(yeah)
they throwin’ p*ssy on me like a n*gga need it (ha ha)
suck that d*ck but i ain’t gon’ eat it (uh*huh)
me and my n*ggas gon’ come and mistreat it (uh)
they on me, homie, the back shots (yeah)
i only know certain b*tches from the track spots (d*mn)
no movies, nah baby, that’s too hot (what)
you like 2pac? (huh?)
i like b.i. (yeah!)
ten minutes, sh*t, pass mе a c.i. (ha ha)
chicken pot, pot (ha ha)
and i’m sleep b*tch (yeah)
to the studio, a n*gga gotta gеt rich (d block!), uh
her p*ssy squirtin’, i think she p*ssin’ but she tellin’ me she cummin’, it’s just tradition, listen (listen)
i need boxers (ha ha)
cause i can’t go home with these boxers (nah)
off the head, you ain’t even on my roster
you gon’ clap but [?] tryna get a oscar (yeah!)
you imposter (huh?!)
you know my crew b*tch (ha hah)
(uh) (uh)
[verse 2: j hood]
i leave you in a ditch
motherf*ck a stitch (f*ck that)
the way these bullets blitz, we guerrillas in the mist
we don’t give a f*ck
i get you taped up (braaaat)
keep sleepin’, i’ll let the mac 10 wake you up (braaaat)
so f*ck if you diesel, the hood know you shook (shook, n*gga)
i wipe my ass with your script, p*ss on your book (garbage)
you ain’t a g, f*ck boy, you more like a snitch
put you on a grill, make barbecue, b*tch (b*tch!)
[?] black, leather holster with the velcro
drop six forty*five the color of elmo (we out)
no shoes, straight [?] [?] black socks
eighty*eight style baggin’ up, black tops (yea)
[?] vest, hoodie with the heat tucked
talk sl!ck out your mouth get your meat lump
we got this sh*t, louch just holla at your man
my homie on the run, he ain’t tryna see the can (what)
f*ck process, i want cheese like digiornos
blowin the [?] watchin’ brazilin p*rnos
when it come to mackin’ these hoes, i’m buddy love (buddy love)
two story crib with a pool at the country club (can’t find me n*gga)
all ya’ll soft n*ggas is food, i’m ’bout to eat you up (let’s go)
treat you like tv dinner, n*gga, and heat you up (ding)
i’m a gangsta, i don’t care what you brought (gangsta n*gga)
in a [?] gettin’ head goin’ to court (yea)
smoked out, both of my eyes tomato red (yea)
ain’t got a problem with aiming this here at your head, uh
j hood, soon as sam goody (j hood!)
thinkin’ ’bout my sales got me with a woodie
gold bottle of creed, i got what you need, i don’ ran through most of them lil b*tches in [?] ([?] [?])
when it comes to these bars, my flow stronger than [?] [?] (yea)
(f*ggot!)
[outro: j hood]
f*ck is wrong with you n*gga?
hahaha

- sheek louch lyrics

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