Real friends, how many of us? How many of us, how many jealous? Real friends It's not many of us, we smile at each other But how many honest? Trust issues Switched up the number, I can't be bothered I cannot blame you for havin' an angle I ain't got no issues, I'm just doin' my thing Hope you're doin' your thing too I'm a deadbeat cousin, I hate family reunions F*ck the church up, I'm drinkin' at the communion Spillin' free wine, now my tux is ruined In town for a day, what the f*ck we doin'? Who your real friends? We all came from the bottom I'm always blamin' you, but what's sad, you're not the problem Damn I forgot to call her, shit I thought it was Thursday Why you wait a week to call my phone in the first place? When was the last time I remembered a birthday? When was the last time I wasn't in a hurry? Tell me you want your tickets when it's gametime Even to call your daughter on her FaceTime Even when we was young I used to make time Now we be way too busy just to make time Even for my Real friends I guess I get what I deserve, don't I? Word on the streets is they ain't heard from him I guess I get what I deserve, don't I? Talked down on my name, throwed dirt on him I couldn't tell you how old your daughter was Couldn't tell you how old your son is I got my own Jr. on the way, dawg Plus I already got one kid Couldn't tell you much about the fam though I just showed up for the yams though Maybe 15 minutes, took some pictures with your sister Merry Christmas, then I'm finished, then it's back to business You wanna ask some questions 'bout some real shit? Like I ain't got enough pressure to deal with Please don't pressure me with that bill shit Cause everybody got 'em, that ain't children Oh you've been nothin' but a friend to me Niggas thinkin' I'm crazy, you defendin' me It's funny I ain't spoke to niggas in centuries To be honest, dawg I ain't feelin' your energy Money turn your kin into an enemy Niggas ain't real as they pretend to be Lookin' for all my real friends How many of us? How many of us are real friends To real friends, to the real end 'Til the wheels fall off, 'til the wheels don't spin To 3 A.M., callin' How many real friends? Just to ask you a question Just to see how you was feelin' How many? For the last you was frontin' I hate when a nigga text you like, "what's up, fam, oh you good?" You say, "I'm good" then great, the next text they ask you for somethin' How many? What's best for your family, immediate or extended Any argument, the media'll extend it I had a cousin that stole my laptop that I was fuckin' bitches on Paid that nigga 250 thousand just to get it from him Real friends Huh? Real friends I guess I get what I deserve, don't I Word on the streets is they ain't heard from him I guess I get what I deserve, don't I Talked down on my name, throwed dirt on him
Written by: Lawrence Joseph Smith, Rupert Thomas, Kejuan Mechita, Darren Charles King, Glenda Proby, Jalil Hutchins, Mike Dean, Noah D. Goldstein, Adam King Feeney, Cydel Charles Young, Matthew Jehu Samuels, Kanye Omari West, Tyrone William Jr. Griffin
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, MIKE CURB MUSIC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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