Need More lyrics

[Verse 1: Joey Fatts]
Been that n*gga since I was conceived
No b*tch trace in my genes, my mama was a G
Known to keep a pistol tucked in my dungarees
And if a n*gga try it, he gon' have to murder me
On my mama
Block hotter than Rwanda
Stashing packs in my sister's Honda
I know they heard that we serving
But if they search they won't find them
Out here grinding
With a purpose, posted up like Andrew Bynum
On the block
Ray Allen with these shots (pop-pop)
Put a n*gga in a box
Dump the Glock
Where was you at? I forgot
No pistol, no case
Get out the next day
Finessing that ye'
I'm like James with that rock
Put holes in his feet, now he walking with Christ
Don't talk to these n*ggas, don't talk to these cops
No love for these hoes
I'm chasing this dough
Get miles with that hooptie and then to a drop
Uhhh, snitches don't live where I come from
pus*y n*ggas get f*cked if they want some
I'm tryna get my mama out the f*cking slums
So I ain't bout to settle for no f*cking crumbs
[Refrain: Joey Fatts]
Bible on the bed
Pistol on the floor
Police on our head
Landlord at the door
Lot of nights we wasn't fed
Bred for the war
So I ain't settling for sh*t
Tell that b*tch I need more (x3)
Lot of nights we wasn't fed
We was bred for the war

[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]
I'm from the place where the f*cking police can't go
Uhh, started from the bottom, can't reach that low
Uhh, we getting dollars out a b*tch, better teach that ho
Uhh, whipping up the ice cream with some sweet yeyo
My neighbor's all on that glass di*k
Tryna get high as that last hit
Got me out here selling this crack sh*t
Could've been a motherf*cking draft pick
Like first round, jail-bound
n*ggas get crossed out, nailed down
Motherf*ckers want a get a fade with me?
Freddie Kane go the whole 12 rounds
On my Mayweather sh*t
n*gga tryna get Mayweather rich
FG might break a ho
But won't make a ho
But I'll let you take care of the b*tch
'Fore you crack that Hen', bless the fifth
Can't a motherf*cker live that test the clique
Shout out to my (?)
Motherf*ck the police
n*gga, we ain't scared of sh*t
What it be like?
[Refrain: Joey Fatts]
Bible on the bed
Pistol on the floor
Police on our head
Landlord at the door
Lot of nights we wasn't fed
Bred for the war
So I ain't settling for sh*t
Tell that b*tch I need more (x3)
Lot of nights we wasn't fed
We was bred for the war