Never Had It lyrics

[Intro: Young Thug]
(Wheezy Beats)
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
YSL, uh

[Chorus: Young Thug]
pus*y n*ggas actin' like they never had sh*t
All these b*tches actin' like they never had sh*t
I got a bad b*tch, she said she always had sh*t
All these flawless diamonds, got it lookin' glassy
Catch that n*gga slippin', I'ma do 'em nasty
Check out my attire, this expensive fabric
And we can wrestle just like Randy Savage
My jewelry as cold as an attic
The kushy that I smoke'll blow your lungs out
I'ma walk in, I clutch it like it's a war house
All your b*tches that bust it, they live in your house
What goes up come down, my n*gga, north, south
I done ran up them M's without a tour now
She done stepped up her game, Christian couture now
These n*ggas thought that they knew it, but they don't know now
I swear to God they pursuin' at all my shows now
[Verse 1: Young Thug]
Ayy, hopped out my 'Vette and hopped right in a foreign, ayy (Skrrt)
b*tch, don't get close, this a motherf*ckin' warning, ayy (Warnin' you)
Suck that di*k good, I'm the motherf*ckin' warden, ayy (Suck it up, suck it up)
She runnin' away from my weed like it farted (Woah, woah, woah)
She don't wan' swallow, so I put it on her neck (What?)
I beat that pus*y up, she loud as a parade (b*tch)
I got one million, but only ten in the bank (Racks)
I taste a sample, I only buy if it's dank (Kushy)
I cook fishscale and sang to her same time like Tank (What?)
I was born in '91, twenty-three years old with a whole lotta stain (Five-star motherf*cker)
Baby, can you feel my pain? (Yeah)
All my diamonds need to be drained (What?)
I got a gangster b*tch that's gon' bang (And)
I got racks up, I can't complain (And)
All my dogs, they dirty, check for mange (And)
All I gotta do is reserve your brains (And)
I'm a gangster, my nuts, they gon' hang (And)
Who said you was straight? Boy, you need to be retained (Oh, woah, woah, ayy)

[Chorus: Young Thug & Young Dolph]
pus*y n*ggas actin' like they never had sh*t (Ayy)
All these b*tches actin' like they never had sh*t (Yup)
I got a bad b*tch, she said she always had sh*t (What?)
All these flawless diamonds, got it lookin' glassy (What? Damn)
Catch that n*gga slippin', I'ma do 'em nasty (What? Ayy)
Check out my attire, this expensive fabric (Ayy, ayy)
And we can wrestle just like Randy Savage (Ooh, ayy)
My jewelry as cold as an attic
The kushy that I smoke'll blow your lungs out (Yup)
I'ma walk in, I clutch it like it's a war house (Haha, what?)
All your b*tches that bust it, they live in your house (What?)
What goes up come down, my n*gga, north, south (What?)
I done ran up them M's without a tour now (Run it up)
She done stepped up her game, Christian couture now (Uh-huh, what? Haha)
These n*ggas thought that they knew it, but they don't know now (It's Dolph)
I swear to God they pursuin' at all my shows now (Thugger Thugger, ayy)
[Verse 2: Young Dolph]
Took the Rollie off, put that Breitling back on (Yup)
Walk in the room and I cut the lights on
Why you spendin' like that? 'Cause I ain't never had sh*t
This that real n*gga Paper Route, YSL sh*t
Never loved a b*tch, but I love money (Damn)
In the church payin' my tithes with drug money (Thank you, God)
Went and got a new plug, got mama a new house (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
And a couple new coupes, that's how a young n*gga live
Couple b*tches, good weed, that's how a n*gga chill
Top floor, penthouse, still crackin' seals (Mud)
Them Houston n*ggas be like, "That young n*gga trill"
Them New York n*ggas say that young n*gga ill (It's Dolph)
My mama always told me dress to kill, ayy (Hah)
My uncle always told me pack the steel, ayy (What?)
That n*gga Thugger, that's my motherf*ckin' brother (Yup, yup)
From a motherf*ckin' 'nother, I'ma show you how to make magic (Ayy)
The f*ck is you mad at?
Got your b*tch dancin' all in my spot with no panties
I said, "b*tch where your motherf*ckin' man at?" (Where he at?)
f*ck that, where your friends at? Damn that (f*ck 'em)
Sold fifty P's, hold it, have to bag it (Ooh-ooh)
That little b*tch you lovin' on, I been had it (Ayy, hahaha)
Pull up in that new drop, that thang nasty (Ayy, ayy, hey)
Mama call all my big booty b*tches trashy (Damn)
[Chorus: Young Thug]
pus*y n*ggas actin' like they never had sh*t
All these b*tches actin' like they never had sh*t
I got a bad b*tch, she said she always had sh*t
All these flawless diamonds, got it lookin' glassy
Catch that n*gga slippin', I'ma do 'em nasty
Check out my attire, this expensive fabric
And we can wrestle just like Randy Savage
My jewelry as cold as an attic
The kushy that I smoke'll blow your lungs out
I'ma walk in, I clutch it like it's a war house
All your b*tches that bust it, they live in your house
What goes up come down, my n*gga, north, south
I done ran up them M's without a tour now
She done stepped up her game, Christian couture now
These n*ggas thought that they knew it, but they don't know now
I swear to God they pursuin' at all my shows now