Bare Essentials by Curtis Williams Lyrics
[Produced by: Childish Major]
[Verse 1: Curtis Williams]
Yeah, Childish Major
Uh, uh look, I said we showed up and we turned up
Good kush, get burned up
Straight shots, tell em' drink up
Think of money, you think of us
Two door, no roof on it
Fucked once and got proof homie
No bread, don't see a point
Probably went skiing if I'm smoking joints
Love talking money, now she poppin' for these bands
We don't cuff em', I love em', tell her pop some for my mans
The game been comin' up, now these boys got out they hands
But where the fuck was you when we was workin' on these plans
I said my set straight and my mom straight
My old hoes just too late, good tree, QP
Smoke it all in like two days, gettin' paid
But we just havin' fun, cause bitch we work hard
So we deserve some, what?
[Hook]
Money, Clothes, Sour
Money, Clothes and Sour (Repeat 3x)
We got Money, Clothes, Sour
Money Clothes and Sour
Money, Clothes, Sour
Money, Clothes and Sour (Repeat 2X)
[Verse 2: Robb Bank$]
Two ex pills and a water, keep these hoes name out my mouth
And my rider got his fire, I'm tryna' see what your cash about
Savage Life, I dun' done it all
Ain't none one of these niggas gon' scare me
I'll bust me a nigga, just to see how he fare against me
And I don't even transport in public, them keys came in low-key
Gave her a room key, touch her privates in some privacy
And girl honestly I'm on a Xanax, but
You must be hooked on phonics, cause them things used to be B-cups
I'm seaside, Smart Stuntin'
Boy, in boat shoes, I'm juggin'
Had my hood sign come from nothin'
All this time, only thought that there was one type of em'
Boy you finna' get an STD, tryna' fuck with me
Nigga South Florida in my blood
Two nines tucked, holding up my britches
I done smoked Ports better than that mid you hittin'
Lil' bitch
[Hook] x2
[Verse 1: Curtis Williams]
Yeah, Childish Major
Uh, uh look, I said we showed up and we turned up
Good kush, get burned up
Straight shots, tell em' drink up
Think of money, you think of us
Two door, no roof on it
Fucked once and got proof homie
No bread, don't see a point
Probably went skiing if I'm smoking joints
Love talking money, now she poppin' for these bands
We don't cuff em', I love em', tell her pop some for my mans
The game been comin' up, now these boys got out they hands
But where the fuck was you when we was workin' on these plans
I said my set straight and my mom straight
My old hoes just too late, good tree, QP
Smoke it all in like two days, gettin' paid
But we just havin' fun, cause bitch we work hard
So we deserve some, what?
[Hook]
Money, Clothes, Sour
Money, Clothes and Sour (Repeat 3x)
We got Money, Clothes, Sour
Money Clothes and Sour
Money, Clothes, Sour
Money, Clothes and Sour (Repeat 2X)
[Verse 2: Robb Bank$]
Two ex pills and a water, keep these hoes name out my mouth
And my rider got his fire, I'm tryna' see what your cash about
Savage Life, I dun' done it all
Ain't none one of these niggas gon' scare me
I'll bust me a nigga, just to see how he fare against me
And I don't even transport in public, them keys came in low-key
Gave her a room key, touch her privates in some privacy
And girl honestly I'm on a Xanax, but
You must be hooked on phonics, cause them things used to be B-cups
I'm seaside, Smart Stuntin'
Boy, in boat shoes, I'm juggin'
Had my hood sign come from nothin'
All this time, only thought that there was one type of em'
Boy you finna' get an STD, tryna' fuck with me
Nigga South Florida in my blood
Two nines tucked, holding up my britches
I done smoked Ports better than that mid you hittin'
Lil' bitch
[Hook] x2