Lyrics:
back it up" feelin' like Gotti
Tense up, thick thighs, girl a little hotty
Break that shit down, do it for me naughty and
Do it real bad girl call me yo
going through,
The same shit,
It was so evident,
Fuck her nigga,
Suck her nigga,
And yo best, friends, too!
Stealing money from yo mama,
Leave a I O U,
can turn your friends against you
But you was a real nigga, I could sense it in you
I still remember the window of the car that you went through
Let me talk to you offline (Let me, let me talk to ya)
Most too scared to speak (Sheesh)
I ain't got to type nothin just to push yo buttons
And I know
off IG, suck a nigga soul
Drake by my side, like a Glock, know he'll never fold
Broke nigga mad 'cause I'm rich and I fuck more hoes
Lil' bitch still
don't talk much, do drive by's and walk ups
Lame rappers that talk much get a broke jaw, star struck
I don't fuck with the lame niggas, I got good aim
clout, niggas runnin' they mouth
It's still Death Row mackin' when gangs start crackin'
Askin' all you cats in this game yo what's happenin'
Hoes talk
Baby girl, she's cute, she's fine, she's sexy, she's mine
Good heart, real smart, got her head on right
Baby girl, all good from the hood
Stay
Falls
I got that drip
I got that sause
She got that drip
Look at her body
I got the juice
I think i'm Gotti
And i'm in the yo with the money bag
I just
Ayy (Egh) i got her booted off Molly
Nigga talk sweet then we shoot up the party
(Pew, pew, egh)
My niggas rich, yeah, we rich just like Gotti
Your
piece bitch to top a Nigga off
Mad max killaz by my side to get the Problem solved
Speak on Tae or Ju nigga shhhh I Ain’t gone talk at all
I’m a real
They stand their ground
They keep it a hunnit
(Uh huh)
Real men don't act the same
They can be themselves by staying in their lanes
(Be yourself)
When he
(Boosie fade)
Like 2Pac, I spit tha real
So BooPac my nickname
Swagged out like Eazy E
I'm like Yo Gotti in my white thang
Like Meek nigga, I'm from
could not smell you
You not a real, and I cannot stand by you I'm ballin' on niggas, I feel like Lil Caillou
All this bread in my pocket, not your cheese
on this lyrical high real quick
1993 exoticness, know what I'm sayin'?
Let's get technical, where's your bone at?
Get up on that shit, aight?
Yo
the wall
Focused on a bag right now but later I'll get them draws
How the fuck they say they real but let they mans fall
Locked in that cell it showed me
paper im on yo ass, ceo illy been by the bag
post wit dat strap that was by the bag, I feel like wop ima buy the block
i feel like ross ima chop
Spam 2 Lamb
(Uh)
I was scaling grams watching Yo MTV Jams
(For real)
Now I'm the richest N***a in my fam
(For real)
40 % goes straight to Uncle Sam
straight
I was rollin' through the city a po-body
Niggas probably thought that I wouldn't gon' be like nobody
Yo Gotti rake it up
The shit I seen can't make
See-see-check, yo
Real sick hearing these pricks talk shit
They get there throats slit 'coz they talkin' to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired
the yo like I'm mufuckin' Gotti
And no we don't care bout yo mufuckin' posse my gang in all black like the mufuckin' Akatsuki
Okay I get so high I talk
shoes for the fashion
This bitch don't go by no rules she's a baddie
She's with the shit let a fuck nigga have it
Or go ghost and hit the coast
I'm her
a secret, don’t be with allat extra (with allat bs)
Meanwhile I’m by my compressor, thinking bout you yo’ head game some pressure
I think we look good
of
Everything you know, still you can't do no
Damage or duel though hey yo, 'cause I'm uno
The Real is the b-est, sport and you can see this
G-ness dialogue,
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