Can't Get Enough - Marco Polo, Big Twins, F.T.

I feel on top of the world, I’m never coming back

Only to kill all the rats

I want all the hot girls, Twin want to rip

Always gotta gas up a chick

All of my goals and dreams make it real ritz

To do this day I don’t really have shit—life's a bitch

Move a brick, put some food on my table

I never was stable, my brain is too fucked up

Went to the club drinking all liquor up

They shoutin' us out, they know the name

The grimy one, most of them niggas think I’m insane

Lames get popped up with two Glocks

I keep rolling up, yo dun I can’t stop

I’m ‘bout paper, I gotta get it

If I don’t get it somebody getting stitches

One thing on my mind, I know gon' live it

It’s the drugs, it’s the rush, it’s the love, it’s the lust

It’s the money and the fame, and I never get enough

It’s the liquor in my cup, it’s the weed in my dutch

It’s the reason we gotta get it, fiends what they want

It’s the drugs, it’s the rush, it’s the love, it’s the lust

It’s the feeling that you feel when there’s no one you can trust

It’s the liquor in my cup, it’s the weed in my dutch

It’s the reason we gotta get it, fiends what they want

You can try and walk in my shoes, it take miles

Living this lifestyle where niggas take vows

When I look out the window all I can see is gray clouds

Fake niggas congregating, niggas straight clowns

Like you working in a circus underneath a tent

Smoking up the money that they gonna need for rent

I tell them no I ain’t perfect, but I don’t pretentd

So hit me on Facebook, that’s only if we’re friends

I know I be a lot of places and do a lot of things

So father forgive me for up and moving out of Queens

I know to some I’m just a rapper, say I raise seeds

All that really means is that the guns is out of reach

How dare a nigga front on me or my team

Ain’t no way in hell you gon' catch me fighting

Roll around in the mud, what the fuck I got slugs for that

Like, fuck a twenty-five-to-life, pass the judge for that

I got the mind of a genius, the voice of a monster

Looks like a young boy, the heart of a hustler

Arms of a gangster, thoughts of a soldier

Sober when I’m fucked up, high when I’m soldier

Haters on my shoulders, tell ‘em haters is over

Tried other drugs but I’m dedicated to doja

You talk about guns but you hesitating to load ‘em

I’m just having fun, getting paper, drinking, and smoking

Don’t listen to them, they just hate me ‘cause I’m rolling

I got a disease, my pockets is looking swollen

Money is the cure, keep stacking until you holding

Cars, women, and clothes, music, movies, and clothing

Groupies, cuties with booty with Fugees, give me a Trojan

I just knew I could do ‘em, screw ‘em, and get ‘em open

I don’t love ‘em, I hug ‘em, fuck ‘em just for the moment

Everybody run, there’s ‘bout to be an explosion