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to me - young thug lyrics

[intro]
i just wanna know why you ignore me
i just wanna know why you making me od
i just wanna let you know that it’s k!lling me slowly
wheezy beatz
i’m dying over you, you just crying over me, aye

[verse 1]
slow that -ss down i’m tryna talk to you (talk to you)
throw that p-ssy at me, i’ma box with it (box)
forty thousand dollar birkin, blow a block with you (woah)
let’s perform a 69, i’m tryna slob with you (slurp, aye)
beat them b-tches up, i’m tryna mob with you (mob with you)
touch your body up, don’t get mad with me (mad)
let’s get fresh, go to tom ford with you
i’ll still swim to you if you had a shark with you (on god)
i’m tryna get this hundred thirty-five thousand dollar ring, and you know the rest (yeah)
i’m tryna be with you ’til dust (dust)
she say, “yeah” ’cause she the best (the best)
applying pressure to your chest (your chest)
i beat ’em with the royal flush (royal flush)
my main b-tch she one of one (one of one)
i swear she nothing like the rest (no)
i caught her right on bouldercrest (bouldercrest)
yeah, i took lil’ shawty off the bus (facts, facts)

[chorus]
ooh ah, ah
i just want whatever you got, that belongs to me
and all i can do is whine
oh, whine!
i hope god could stop what you shot… to me (aye)

[verse 2]
new g wagon, 24s on that b-tch (aye)
i made two of the rappers pee they clothes, prolly sh-t
i made two of these actress f-ck my whole f-cking clique, aye
blue cheese wrappers sitting on motherf-cking slicks
let’s take a percocet test, i prolly fail that b-tch (mmh)
i think my old lady on to us, i got to mail that b-tch, ooh ooh
i got a whole lotta cheese, yeah yeah, velveeta rich (velveeta), ooh ooh
i got fans all over the world, i make ’em all moshpit (hmph)
and if that n-gg- play crazy in the school, i’ma make his -ss turn into the wall
i got all these n-gg-s’ old ladies tryna pay attention so they can know how i ball, ball, ball (aye)
you should try by god, the car was never driving it (never)
you should try by god, the bottle was never popping it (ooh)
you should try a whole lotta things, yeah (yeah)
you should try losing somethings, gotta go to the property
everybody ysl, a lot of properties (slime)
everybody parasail like a nautica (slime)
everybody with me pockets end up wobbling (wobbling)
irv gotti
everybody with me, they ain’t scared to catch a body (nah)
everybody girl running round with everybody (yeah)
everybody came around me, start getting money (money)
everybody came around you, start taking molly (hah)
you see the difference (yeah)
they whole picture penny pinching (hah), they dead broke
they ain’t really dead, they just living (facts), expert
i’m balling and i’m still in business (facts), make her squirt
all in the motherf-cking kitchen

[chorus]
ooh ah, ah
i just want whatever you got, that belongs to me
and all i can do is whine
oh, whine!
i hope god should stop what you shot… to me (jeffery)

[verse 3]
you can’t stop what god got for me
i said, “i’ma stop,” and drunk more codeine (lean)
pop that mini label that ain’t ecstasy (label)
and i’m telling on myself but i don’t care about a thing (f-ck it)
it’s funny now i’m rich that i don’t care about money (woah)
before i was married, man, i still didn’t care about honeys (hah)
speaking of honey, yeah, i’m a big b honey (big)
go tell your ex-boyfriend he can’t see me or nothing (nothing)
he can be my neighbor, still can’t see me (hey)
his alb-m is the latest, still can’t be me (hah)
and don’t you talk to me ’bout nothing (nothing)
every one of my watches come in flooded (yeah)
every one of these thotties, i coulda f-cked, yeah (yeah)
diamonds on me, got the robbers rushing (facts)
my att-tude out’ sp-ce, i don’t care ’bout nothing (facts)
pack the smith & wesson (grah)
actavis let go of me leg, ohh (hey)
actually me bankroll, don’t let go (don’t let go)
ready to run you rap n-gg-s back home (ready)
put a tec-9 into the backbone (tec-9)
money give you gooseb-mps, money give you feedback
sweat on your tee top, i don’t wanna see none of y’all
y’all are cheaters, f-ck your mamacita
yeah, i’m a nasty b-st-rd, i need a detox
yeah, i’m in a foreign whip with your mamacita
ten thousand dollar chips and a hunnid visas
and i got a lot of sticks and a hunnid creatures
better not have no bad b-tch if you wanna sleep with her (wait)
get a pack, n-gg- you better rollie pollie ollie (hey)
came up in the projects with no roaches (hah)
we had to keep it clean, everything smelt soapy
back when we had no homies

[chorus]
ooh ah, ah
i just want whatever you got, that belongs to me
and all i can do is whine
oh, whine!
i hope god should stop what you shot… to me

- young thug lyrics

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