Too Much lyrics

by

J Dilla


[Intro:]
Shawty Fresh (Shawty Fresh)

[Chorus:]
Can't get involved too deeply (nothing too serious)
Can't set myself up for letdowns (letdowns)
Get on them bars get sleepy (sleep)
Grab a little b*tch and go lay it down (lay it down)
Can't even remember my weekend (can’t even remember)
Barely can get up the next day (the next day)
All I know that I still gettin' paid (gettin’ one)
Chain on the floor by my Michael J's (all I know)
Couple little b*tches was ready (ready)
Chopper on side of me ready (ready)
When in the hell they be ready (ready)
Did you not think I was ready (ready)
I just told Ray that she ready
Got it goin push it on out to the block
Got it goin push it on out to the streets
Whatever do it heavy young n*gga be ready

[Verse 1:]
We be like b*tch I gotta get a 100 P's 100 P's I gotta get em
Give a f*ck what my n*ggas em done did cuz wrong or right n*gga ridin with em
24/7 riding with each other b*tch, riding with each other
We can afford some problems
I can afford some problems
Be the one I'll lay it down
Bad b*tches I just lay em down
No emotions I can't play around
Power gone I made my way around
Through the city money gotta get it
Francis was out shooting dice with me
My b*tch she wanted me home with her
Textin and talkin on phones with her
I f*ck witcha, but the way a n*gga f*ck witcha
Make it seem like I don't f*ck witcha
I don't hit your phone all the time
You say it make you feel like you ain't on my mind
How the f*ck is you ain't on my mind
When I just went and helped you go and flip a dime
Why the f*ck are these b*tches ungrateful
Must be doing something under the table
[Chorus]

[Verse 2:]
You gotta be ready fool
You gotta be ready whatever time it is
Whatever day n*gga I don't give a f*ck
Man you gotta be ready
You gotta be ready b*tch
You gotta be ready Miss Lady that's if you feel I disrespected you callin you b*tch chill
You’ll still be my b*tch for real
(b*tch chill you on that extra sh*t)
Cuz if i'm f*ckin witcha then I call you that
N*gga be talking crazy like they'll kill somebody
Boy you ain't got the balls for that
I f*ck with young n*ggas, f*ck with real n*ggas
Like DTB like black
I f*ck with plenty b*tches but I still won't f*ck her if that sh*t ain't wet
Every time a n*gga get that pack
Go to Mom's house give her them racks
Swear to God my life here facts
Yea I f*ck witcha but can't get attached
That money callin me I hear it say
Trouble come get me don't never relax

[Chorus]
[Outro:]
N*gga you ain't high….n*gga we high!
Shawty Fresh
Get this b*tch ready
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