More

Lisa, I want some more

Not enough tats or shoes or hats or booze
Or coach or cause or clothes or whores
Or shows or tours or show room floors
That can Optimus Prime you and transform
Who you was before you walked through the door

Insecure, get lower of it smoother than velour
Rub it, touch it, don't you want it? I'm sure
It's the more, insatiable is the roar
It'll eat you raw, sushi

Kill it like cops who kill us over loosies
Pollution, the reason why we do see
Bobby but not Whitney and it could have been Britney
And Billie took a holiday cause we all know that fame is empty

Kurt Cobain overdosed on cocaine

And Don Cornelius derailed his soul train
Suicidal cause human idols don't kill pain
The more we achieve, the harder to maintain
The harder to stay sane
Our hearts so dark it's easy to get drained
We running on fumes but full of octane
We all gassed up wanting more of the same

Lisa, I want some more

Yo, not, not, not for the G's
I'm on decks, Herbie Hancock-ing keys
With many methods to the motion of hustle, you know the steez
When it comes to navigating these streets, amongst these
We tip a sword at the sleeves so I move with the breeze
But a breeze holding sixteen, totally at ease
Leaving many of my enemies eternally at ease
Pushing weight between interstates just to enter

The mind state of winter, not the fall before the summer
Just the spring for a Rover, looking fresher than ever
Unaware that my partner is jealous and under pressure
So one afternoon around eleven o'clock

Checking in with a soldier that's managing the block
Taking money from a fiend with cash out, ready to cop
He got surrounded by cops, click-clacking their Glocks

Blowing up the spot and scavenging for rocks
Took the raw, rights read, shoved me in the back door
Lost my freedom and more just because I wanted more

Lisa, I want some more

Let me tell you what I need, yo I need the finer things indeed
More is better especially when it's free
Let me splurge out, everything's on me
Balling out priceless, all of my vices, devices
But my American pie need more slices
Cause my pockets never deep enough, I could never reach enough
Going down, I would never speak it up
Or let a thought enter into my mind
That won't add a dollar or a cent to my grind

Yeah I'm just fly, the invincible guy
I'm addicted to the sky and pimping the ride
Yo I'm in the trenches with mine

I ain't gonna lie yo, I'm itching to shine
Mama said that I would get it in time
But I'm too impatient to sit in a line
I need it all now

Lisa, I want some more
Lisa, I want some more