We Be On Sonny Digital & Que
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "We Be On" by Sonny Digital & Que. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Chorus: Que]
I smoke gas and I take meds
I sip purp and I drink red
If you ain’t my nigga I don’t shake hands
And ‘round here, we make bitches break bread
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
[Verse 1: Que]
I’m the type of nigga that’ll break a bitch
Ballin’ on that 2002 Lakers shit
Six gold rings, feel like I’m Michael Jordan
Took your bitch and upgraded her for Michael Kors
We set all the trends, the other niggas follow
And for that paper I’ll knock the beef straight out your taco
Head honcho, I’m plugged with Pablo
Four-five Glock stole, it’s loaded with hollow, oh
Only rock gold, my niggas will not fold, no
Top floor at the W, we mob ho, oh
Knock the pussy out, two piece and a combo, oh
Red dot woah, turn niggas to John Doe
[Chorus: Que]
I smoke gas and I take meds
I sip purp and I drink red
If you ain’t my nigga I don’t shake hands
And ‘round here, we make bitches break bread
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
I smoke gas and I take meds
I sip purp and I drink red
If you ain’t my nigga I don’t shake hands
And ‘round here, we make bitches break bread
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
[Verse 1: Que]
I’m the type of nigga that’ll break a bitch
Ballin’ on that 2002 Lakers shit
Six gold rings, feel like I’m Michael Jordan
Took your bitch and upgraded her for Michael Kors
We set all the trends, the other niggas follow
And for that paper I’ll knock the beef straight out your taco
Head honcho, I’m plugged with Pablo
Four-five Glock stole, it’s loaded with hollow, oh
Only rock gold, my niggas will not fold, no
Top floor at the W, we mob ho, oh
Knock the pussy out, two piece and a combo, oh
Red dot woah, turn niggas to John Doe
[Chorus: Que]
I smoke gas and I take meds
I sip purp and I drink red
If you ain’t my nigga I don’t shake hands
And ‘round here, we make bitches break bread
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
That the type of shit that we be on
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