MORE THAN ENOUGH

UK Hip-Hop, UK Rap, Trap, Experimental Pop Rap

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V6-MINI

[Chorus]
[High-pitched Female Vocals Sample] 
(You're the one for me)
You're the one (You can call on me)
Oh, yes (Is all I want us to be)
Oh, yeah (You're the one for me)

[Verse 1]
Look—
Ten bags in the coat, but my mind’s still broke,
In the back of the Merc with a bad b choked.
She wanna talk 'bout feelings and love,
I’m just thinkin’ how the pack got shipped through the coast.
Got a white gyal from the Wild West,
Gave her two thousand Ps just to ride this cock.
She said "Viktor, you're a monster," nah, babe, I'm a product
Of a system that starved us till the yutes went crop.
Over-analyzin’ every text like VAR,
In Mayfair smokin' on loud in the car.
F*ck a five-star suite, I remember cold nights
When the council flat had the heating on red.
Now the bank account’s fat, but the paranoia’s deep,
Keep a glock near the sheets while she rides in her sleep.
Put her face in the pillow, make her scream real loud,
Told her "Don't bite the mattress, keep the noise down, sweet."
Got enough dead friends for a graveyard shift,
Got enough fake bros on a snake-ass list.
Every time I count a mill, I feel less relieved,
'Cause the feds wanna tap every call that I hit.

[Chorus]
[High-pitched Female Vocals Sample] 
(You're the one for me)
You're the one (You can call on me)
Oh, yes (Is all I want us to be)
Oh, yeah (You're the one for me)

[Verse 2]
Ayy—
She ride the dick like a quad bike, proper,
Left her knees all bruised, now she callin' me papi.
Got her face dripping down like a melted candle,
In the kitchen cookin' white, no flour, no copper.
Wordplay sick, like I caught the disease,
Got these industry yutes on their knees.
They want a feature for clout, I want eighty-five bags
Or I’m pullin' up cheffin' up all their signees.
Real life, cost of living hit the ends so hard,
Yutes sixteen turnin' traps to a yard.
I was sellin' white rock like a crackhead’s dream,
Now I’m sitting on a board, pullin’ all of the cards.
Sip Henny out the glass, got her tits on display,
She said "Do you love me?" I said "Not today."
Got a side ting in Toronto and a main one in Atlanta,
And a coldhearted b*tch who just wants my estate.
I got trauma in my soul that a check can't fix,
I got p*ssy on tap, but it’s all just tricks.
Lookin' in the mirror at a self-made ghost,
With a hundred thousand pounds in a dirty-ass kit.

[Chorus]
[High-pitched Female Vocals Sample] 
(You're the one for me)
You're the one (You can call on me)
Oh, yes (Is all I want us to be)
Oh, yeah (You're the one for me)

(You're the one for me)
You're the one (You can call on me)
Oh, yes (Is all I want us to be)
Oh, yeah (You're the one for me)

2627/7500

[Chorus] [High-pitched Female Vocals Sample] (You're the one for me) You're the one (You can call on me) Oh, yes (Is all I want us to be) Oh, yeah (You're the one for me) [Verse 1] Look— Ten bags in the coat, but my mind’s still broke, In the back of the Merc with a bad b choked. She wanna talk 'bout feelings and love, I’m just thinkin’ how the pack got shipped through the coast. Got a white gyal from the Wild West, Gave her two thousand Ps just to ride this cock. She said "Viktor, you're a monster," nah, babe, I'm a product Of a system that starved us till the yutes went crop. Over-analyzin’ every text like VAR, In Mayfair smokin' on loud in the car. F*ck a five-star suite, I remember cold nights When the council flat had the heating on red. Now the bank account’s fat, but the paranoia’s deep, Keep a glock near the sheets while she rides in her sleep. Put her face in the pillow, make her scream real loud, Told her "Don't bite the mattress, keep the noise down, sweet." Got enough dead friends for a graveyard shift, Got enough fake bros on a snake-ass list. Every time I count a mill, I feel less relieved, 'Cause the feds wanna tap every call that I hit. [Chorus] [High-pitched Female Vocals Sample] (You're the one for me) You're the one (You can call on me) Oh, yes (Is all I want us to be) Oh, yeah (You're the one for me) [Verse 2] Ayy— She ride the dick like a quad bike, proper, Left her knees all bruised, now she callin' me papi. Got her face dripping down like a melted candle, In the kitchen cookin' white, no flour, no copper. Wordplay sick, like I caught the disease, Got these industry yutes on their knees. They want a feature for clout, I want eighty-five bags Or I’m pullin' up cheffin' up all their signees. Real life, cost of living hit the ends so hard, Yutes sixteen turnin' traps to a yard. I was sellin' white rock like a crackhead’s dream, Now I’m sitting on a board, pullin’ all of the cards. Sip Henny out the glass, got her tits on display, She said "Do you love me?" I said "Not today." Got a side ting in Toronto and a main one in Atlanta, And a coldhearted b*tch who just wants my estate. I got trauma in my soul that a check can't fix, I got p*ssy on tap, but it’s all just tricks. Lookin' in the mirror at a self-made ghost, With a hundred thousand pounds in a dirty-ass kit. [Chorus] [High-pitched Female Vocals Sample] (You're the one for me) You're the one (You can call on me) Oh, yes (Is all I want us to be) Oh, yeah (You're the one for me) (You're the one for me) You're the one (You can call on me) Oh, yes (Is all I want us to be) Oh, yeah (You're the one for me)

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