Lyrics I Gotta Have it (3am In Paris) - Tunka

Mhm
Mhm
Mhm uh huh uh huh

Expensive fabrics I gotta have it
I want a million I gotta grab it
I got 'em distracted just like a tablet
Look at the diamonds on top of the Patek
Pull up coupe they look ecstatic
I'm lookin' big malice in the palace
Dead fresh might come in a casket
Dead fresh but you don't gotta stab me

Went out to eat and I got me a money order money order
Know some niggas that got rich off of bakin' soda
Came in know I'm bout to take it over
You don't fuck with me then you don't have to fake it homie fake it homie

What you said 'bout the gang we can't take that
Youngin' play we gon' leave his face flat
Niggas mad and I know that hate that
Tunka ran it up I know they hate that
Turn the other cheek you know I can't hate back
No no nah nah nah I can't hate back
Put on sunglasses they throwin' out shade
Body good I guess ate that

Get to the cheese its impairable
'Cause shit I hate rats
Sellin' so good that we ran out of work
Guess I had to make racks
Racks of dough yea yea
They hungry they say they want more
Tryna eat so they stole the flow to be honest I really don't blame 'em

They my sons they say yes sir yes sir
Wanna rap better come to the expert
Don't put down boy you better bet first
Tryna out rap me know your head hurt

'Cause I said some shit you can't catch on
Leave out yo' city I still got my head on
Runnin' straight through this shit just like a landline
Bro said he got it he call me back 10-5
Like Chigaco we got the right to bare arms
Catholic choppa boy we might have to pray for 'em
Derrick Henry number one with the stiff arm

Never breakin' up with money got prenup
Baseball with the choppa we T up
Pockets in shape my money doing V-ups
Keep the same energy when you see us
Uh huh