Lyrics:
to respect
Cause the energy you put out
That's the energy you get
Real talk I feel like it's a lost art
I'm talkin' manifesting the desires of your own heart
Jones thing
This is just sweet, sweet, love
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
I met her back in the day
Knew how much the bitch weighed and payed
It was sort
Jones thing
This is just sweet, sweet, love
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
I met her back in the day
Knew how much the bitch weighed and payed
It was sort
a housewife
When you know everybody know you a body
Got me a pistol, I got me a shotty
I be posted up in the yo like Gotti
How you gon' send a nigga like me
a pamper
On and talk some real shit
And if a girl want it
Then I could give her some real dick
You round talking crazy 'bout a
Nigga and it still hit
I
you keep it real where you from
Cause where you at might put da dagger in yo back its like livin wit yo homey dat
Be on crack and fat my niggas know my
of extortions to settle my score
It gets deeper when things get real
I'm down to stickin out West Bank for my mill
And I'm from Hempstead, it's close
Ima real nigga
I talk shit
I gotta lotta hustle in me
I don't quit
Bitch I'm bitch I'm bitch I'm bad nigga
Its dumb shit (Whoop)
Sit you on yo ass
real
Trusted niggas in a place where I lay and pay bills
Cried to Ann so many times
She know the sound when I'm hurt
I feel I'm asleep in the Benz
yo' ass up
You know where we comin' from
Death Row! BIATCH! Ha ha hahaha!
A yo, Kurupt, you first to blast, nigga
And you know how we do it
Finta get real in here (word up), don't stop, (yo yo), that nigga daz
(Uh Yeah through kurupt talking)
Uh uh uh uh uh uh, Kurupt young Gotti
Yo this shits for real
Yo this shits for real
Yo this shits for real
Blessed by bob that's how I feel
Blessed by bob let's make a mill
Blessed by bob
on the visit
Yeah, you better off talking on the visit
If you don't know how to speak in code
You gone' fuck around and catch
A new charge yo
I heard Rap D got
gon' hit yo' ass up.
You know where we comin' from
Death Row bitch Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
ash under feet
The game is under siege
I’m about to give this bitch a squeeze
Hold up
Spit yo game talk yo shit
Spit yo game talk yo shit
Spit yo game
in a hirsch
All Hail Shawty
The New John Gotti
The real almighty
I don’t like nobody
I don’t trust nobody
Man fuck everybody
I don’t wanna kick it man
the DMs b
Maybe this shit meant to be
From IG to next to me
I think I see what Yo Gotti mean
Told me I had a million watchin'
I ain't think you ever noticed
ain't real as they seem better watch who you keep on yo team
I know Money change people but I won't let it change the real nigga in me
They snakes
like he want my chain, I smoke him like some Mary Jane
And shorty that shit real talk
And shorty that shit real talk
Coca, coca, coca cola
"Yayo bought
who gon' tell yo mother, her baby's under a cover in the morgue
Stiff as a log, sniffed out by the dogs
Son of a hard headed nigga that wouldn't
in Rikers (locked up in Rikers)
Pockets on biggie, no Christopher Wallace (pockets on biggie)
Came up with real ones around me, they solid (real ones
John Gotti
Damn... It's so much pain flowing through my veins
Missing my big bro Relo
Hear him saying "Do yo thang"
(Do ya thang, Deezy)
I gotchu bro,
CEO and I don't wear suits (CEO)
Boy, my son rock ice too (yeah)
Yeah, fight who? What that pipe shoot? (Boom)
Face like Yo Gotti, white Rover
One of them type of ballers on the same level as Gotti
So all you tenders, it's all to the good
So page me on the under and I'll creep through yo' hood
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