Love Me No More Lyrics

Chorus:
Now how u gon’ tell me you don’t love me no more (How you gon’ tell me that?)
Cuz I’m out here getting this bread (You hatin on this paper chase?)
Tryna get my Momma a crib (Shit don’t even sound right)
Tryna get up out the ghetto
Now how the Hood talkin bout they don’t need me no more
(What’chu want me stuck in the ghetto, listen imma get out)
Cuz a mu’f**ka push that GT
(Then you what, Imma come back for the niggas need to be reached for)
It’s a problem tryna take that from me
(You niggas is slippin)
Cuz im packin heavy metal uhhuh

I hear the streets talking funny (shit)
So I laugh (haha) tell em keep talking funny (keep talking funny)
Imma keep talking money (yup)
And all different types (what)
The yens and the pounds (pounds)
Nigga just for spite push, the Bentley round town (sparrows)
Tripin’ in ice I still be up town (Harlem)
I hear em kicking up dirt on my name (so what)
But I could clean em up like detergent on a stain
Or ill beam em up we got birdies on the chain (easy)
Respect my mind or respect my grind (cause what)
Gone to the bank when its cheque signing time (okay)
Its Tito Borough when it’s jet flying time (clear-port)
And we so thorough we the set fly or die (Dip Set)
The bitches funny I’m talking bout life (yup)
It was Sunday to Sunday on New York’s chilly nights (that’s right)
And we was hungry nauseas for a bite
But if the world’s apple pie of course you want a slice (yup)

Chorus
Now how u gon’ tell me you don’t love me no more (hoe you gon’ tell me that
Cuz Im out here getting this bread (you hatin on this paper chase)
Tryna get my Momma a crib
Tryna get up out the ghetto
How the Hood Talkin bout they don’t need me no more
Cuz a mu’f**ka push that GT
It’s a problem tryna take that from me
Cuz im packin (Jones) heavy metal uhhuh


Heard somebody speak my name, but death was next to it (pray for me)
My next breath was let’s do it (kid)
Got me runnin through the game with my vest and my best shooters (who’s next)
Best of event VVS and best ya jewellers (new year)
Nigga outta lame ya shit, gets chewed up (get em)
And im tryna kill the pain with like two sluts (what’s up baby)
Use to say money ain’t a thang to I blew up (what)
Then money’s everything, but that thang can break your crew up (true stills)
Where did love go? (where)
And where does that leave us? (where we at)
They holdin’ grudges on how they receive us (fa sho)
And show the judges on how they perceive us
Hate to see a thug Nigga whip the forein features (ballin)
Secretary’s that Condoleza (yup)
Cash first, secondary we use the visa (uh huh)
Blast first, never worry about police cuffs (nope)
Ya either leave us or you free us
I need money!

Chorus:
Now how u gon’ tell me you don’t love me no more
Cuz I’m out here getting this bread
Tryna get my Momma a crib
Tryna get up out the ghetto
How the Hood talkin bout they don’t need me no more
Cuz a mu’f**ka push that GT
It’s a problem tryna take that from me
Cuz I’m packin heavy metal

Jim Jones - Harlem's American Gangster

Mar 2011

1. American Gangster
2. Byrd Gang Money
3. Come on, Come On
4. Dame Dash Skit #1
5. Dame Dash Skit #2
6. Dame Dash Skit #3
7. Dame Dash Skit #4
8. I Gotta Have It
9. Intro
10. Lifestyle
11. Lookin at the Game
12. Love Me No More
13. No Fuss
14. Rockefeller Laws
15. Stay Ballin
16. The King
17. Up in Harlem