Lyrics Love Me No More (feat. Cobe) - Jim Jones feat. Cobe
Now
how
you
gon'
tell
me,
you
don't
love
me
no
more?
(How
you
gon'
tell
me
that?)
'Cause
I'm
out
here
getting
this
bread
(You
hating
on
this
paper
chase)
Tryna
get
my
Momma
a
crib
(Shit
don't
even
sound
right)
Tryna
get
up
out
the
ghetto
Now
how
the
hood
talking
'bout
they
don't
need
me
no
more
(What'chu
want
me
stuck
in
the
ghetto,
listen
I'm
a
get
out)
'Cause
a
mothafucka
push
that
GT
(Then
you
what,
I'm
a
come
back
for
the
niggas
need
to
be
reached
for)
It's
a
problem
tryna
take
that
from
me
(You
niggas
is
slipping)
'Cause
I'm
packing
heavy
metal
uh,
huh
I
hear
the
streets
talking
funny
(Shit)
So
I
laugh,
tell
'em
keep
talking
funny
(Keep
talking
funny)
I'm
a
keep
talking
money
(Yup)
And
all
different
types
(What?)
The
yens
and
the
pounds
(Pounds)
Nigga
just
for
spite
push,
the
Bentley
'round
town
(Sparrows)
Triping
in
ice
I
still
be
up
town
(Harlem)
I
hear
'em
kicking
up
dirt
on
my
name
(So
what?)
But
I
could
clean
'em
up
like
detergent
on
a
stain
Or
I'll
beam
'em
up,
we
got
birdies
on
the
chain
(Easy)
Respect
my
mind
or
respect
my
grind
('Cause
what?)
Gone
to
the
bank
when
it's
cheque
signing
time
(Okay)
It's
Tito
Borough
when
it's
jet
flying
time
(Clear
port)
And
we
so
thorough
we
the
set
fly
or
die
(Dip
Set)
The
bitches
funny,
I'm
talking
'bout
life
(Yup)
It
was
Sunday
to
Sunday
on
New
York's
chilly
nights
(That's
right)
And
we
was
hungry
nauseas
for
a
bite
But
if
the
world's
apple
pie
of
course
you
want
a
slice
(Yup)
Now
how
you
gon'
tell
me
you
don't
love
me
no
more?
(How
you
gon'
tell
me
that?)
'Cause
I'm
out
here
getting
this
bread
(You
hatin
on
this
paper
chase)
Tryna
get
my
Momma
a
crib
Tryna
get
up
out
the
ghetto
How
the
Hood
talking
'bout
they
don't
need
me
no
more
'Cause
a
mothafucka
push
that
GT
It's
a
problem
tryna
take
that
from
me
Cause
I'm
packing
heavy
metal
uh,
huh
(Jones)
Heard
somebody
speak
my
name
but
death
was
next
to
it
(Pray
for
me)
My
next
breath
was
let's
do
it
(Kid)
Got
me
running
through
the
game
with
my
vest
and
my
best
shooters
(Who's
next?)
Best
of
event
VVS
and
best
yo'
jewelers
(New
year)
Nigga
outta
lame
yo'
shit,
gets
chewed
up
(Get
'em)
And
I'm
tryna
kill
the
pain
with
like
two
sluts
(What's
up,
baby?)
Use
to
say
money
ain't
a
thang
to
I
blew
up
(What?)
Then
money's
everything
but
that
thang
can
break
your
crew
up
(True
stills)
Where
did
love
go?
(Where?)
And
where
does
that
leave
us?
(Where
we
at?)
They
holding
grudges
on
how
they
receive
us
(Fa
sho)
And
show
the
judges
on
how
they
perceive
us
Hate
to
see
a
thug
nigga
whip
the
foreign
features
(Balling)
Secretary's
that
Condoleza
(Yup)
Cash
first,
secondary
we
use
the
visa
Blast
first,
never
worry
about
police
cuffs
(Nope)
You
either
leave
us
or
you
free
us,
I
need
money
Now
how
you
gon'
tell
me
you
don't
love
me
no
more?
'Cause
I'm
out
here
getting
this
bread
Tryna
get
my
Momma
a
crib
Tryna
get
up
out
the
ghetto
How
the
hood
talking
'bout
they
don't
need
me
no
more
'Cause
a
mothafucka
push
that
GT
It's
a
problem
tryna
take
that
from
me
'Cause
I'm
packing
heavy
metal
![Jim Jones - Harlem's American Gangster](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/a/5/o/9/r8qtz79o5a.jpg)
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