Gotta Have It (Remix)

[Intro: 10KNYX]
Yuh

[Hook: 10KNYX]
I gotta chef
I gotta step
I gotta push up, I need reps
I gotta look up, gotta pray
I gotta book up, shows today
Manifest it all, Really do the magic
I gotta have it, I gotta have it

[Verse 1: 10KNYX]
I gotta rep
Get it, get it, you gone need some more pep
Fitted, fitted, but won't cap for the rest
In the stu with the stew how I chef
10k, got the crest on my chest
I'ma wear my own merch
And go wish you the best
I gotta step
Been a minute since I put out shit
If you doubt shit, I’ma out shit
Re-route shit
Is you bout shit?
They gone get disgusting for that clout shit
They gone get to busting for the drought, bitch
You got a problem but ain’t said nothing
Ain’t off the top but I be headhunting
You get the point, I'm finna lead sum
Know the energy cause I read sum
I keep it coming, got the bag in
Away from the bragging
You rap like you lagging
I reboot and tap in
This it and I'm tagging
Feel like Bin Laden, a dragon
Got picked for the passion
The chosen assassin
Fuck a Benz, I’m the G in the wagon
Drop bomb with a project, Manhattan
Don't need a wave, but I'm still with the satin
Team down, gotta run it like madden
Look
I gotta step
They came for the fix
Up the vocals when I'm up in the mix
Master of the path
We got a hit
Gotta mine the craft
We got the glitch
I can't have a mask
Truth in my shit
Keep it legit
NYX

[Chorus: 10KNYX]
I gotta chef
I gotta step
I gotta push up, I need reps
I gotta look up, gotta pray
I gotta book up, shows today
Manifest it all, Really do the magic
I gotta have it, I gotta have it

[Verse 2: NGB.SaUce]
Yuh, I’m breaking rackets like habits, oh
I’m shooting 3s just like Magic
I walk in the door and they getting ecstatic
My car is fast like an automatic
Look at my watch, I’m dripping, got a Patek
I invented sauce, give me my patent, uh
I can not stay
I do not play
When I go on the stage, I better bet paid
He shut his mouth, he had nothing to say
I took your girl and now she calls me bae
Everything I do, I do it my way
What’s it to you, I’ma say what I say
I done seen hard times where I had to pray
Every decision I make carry some weight
Must be a flee market, everything about me cranks
You crying in bed while you listening to Drake
I’m so used to liars, deceivers, and all of the hate
I didn’t feel good and now I’m feeling great
I thirst for success, I need some Gatorade
All these snitches and roaches, I’ma need some Raid
Home town hero, throw me a parade
I’m a BK baby, no highway operate
I’m NGB, I don’t got time for games
I remember when I ain’t have diamonds in my chain
I don’t care about clout, don’t care about fame
I just want my bag
I’m tryna get paid
I want a pendant that say my whole name
Said you can’t be my shawty, you ain’t got no rang
Can’t say you a baller, you ain’t got no rangs
You really not bout it, stop tryna use slang
Said you still tryna flex, homie, that’s lame
It’s not even yours, you ain’t run no claim

[Outro: NGB.SaUce]
Still tryna flex, homie, that’s lame
It’s not even yours, you ain’t run no claim, claim
Still tryna flex, homie, that’s lame
It’s not even yours, you ain’t got no claims, claim