[Intro]
The money in the streets will manipulate so many kids
Cause they seen so much money out here
You know the history of the south bro you know
Either you got a jump shot or you sold that rock

[Verse 1]
That bsb shit you heard i was weighed up
Thinking I was sitting up above freaked out
So easy I'm feeling carierving with the rap
Feeling like myself cause I’m getting all this gwack
I’m feeling like Martin Luther and my only pieces of
Ruga I shoot you on the spot playing you playing
Troy Ave is the man I made a hundred grand fuck
The sand scan and my rari see’s ten different colours
Of my chicks you a hater we shitting on eat it with the
Dick right do do do do
And while you chewing down we going to bring your bitch through
Shorty popping off automatic pistol gun young Lito 10 hundred
Remix official

[Hook]
Real n***a feeling like i’m Kyrie Irving with the rock
Baking soda whip it good and have a feen come lick the pot
Check the corners driving foreigns they ain’t even hit the lot
Club promoters Know I'm Bout It get the bitches to the spot
Wait a minute counting chicken in the coupe ain’t that ironic
Bitches text me I don't read it I just text back I ain’t got
Lord have mercy Panameras double parked up on the yacht
Money murder fucking bitches hottest n***a fucking bitches on your block
Real N***a
[Verse 2]
Coming up man all I wanted coming up was a Glock
Now i’m older shit got colder so only rollie that I watch
Stay high not the bottom younging started from the top
If I saw it then I want it what the fuck I went and got
I be out here switching lanes with my n***a Mdot
If a hater getting crazy then we blowing up the spot (Ah Ah Ah)
For that shmoney you’ll get shmurdered GS9
G5 flying down your lane like Lebron
You call it flexing we call it fronting but busemis on lock
With a queen she getting low she on the run from the cops
Feeling like i’m A-Town with all these birds on my block
Check my watch, it looks like my jeweler made it with Watts
Ahh man Ahh man Bleezy is the man
I know you hatin on me because I know your bitch a fan
God damn I got them killers working on the block
If you need it we got it the crack spot

[Hook]
Real n***a feeling like i’m Kyrie Irving with the rock
Baking soda whip it good and have a feen come lick the pot
Check the corners, driving foreigns they ain’t even hit the lot
Club promoters Know I'm Bout It get the bitches to the spot
Wait a minute counting chicken in the coupe ain’t that ironic
Bitches text me I don't read it I just text back I ain’t got
Lord have mercy, Panameras double parked up on the yacht
Money murder fucking bitches hottest n***a fucking bitches on your block
Real N***a








Verse 3

The other day my mama told me she happy that i’m living
And she don’t want to talk about them days up in that prison
The only reason I spent some days up in that prison, grab
That bail money came and got me n***a now i’m in it
I’m on beast mode triggers go reload
So many weapons on me thought it was a chat code
Talking about Mac 11’s them Ninas to 47’s career High
I’m giving n***as like 57 you a lie if you really think you fucking with I oh my god
Ain’t been a n***a this good since a i kill ya pride
I water whip I whip that work till it dry
I got 9 about 10 I'm only one assist shy
Ahh man Ahh man they on us once again
I’m still the hottest got it clicking like the gun jammed
God Damn I got them killers working on the block
If you need it we got it the crack spot
Hook

Real n***a feeling like i’m Kyrie Irving with the rock
Baking soda whip it good and have a feen come lick the pot
Check the corners, driving foreigns they ain’t even hit the lot
Club promoters Know I'm Bout It get the bitches to the spot
Wait a minute counting chicken in the coupe ain’t that ironic
Bitches text me I don't read it I just text back I ain’t got
Lord have mercy Panameras double parked up on the yacht
Money murder fucking bitches hottest n***a fucking bitches on your block
Real N***a

Hook

Real n***a feeling like i’m Kyrie Irving with the rock
Baking soda whip it good and have a feen come lick the pot
Check the corners, driving foreigns they ain’t even hit the lot
Club promoters Know I'm Bout It get the bitches to the spot
Wait a minute counting chicken in the coupe ain’t that ironic
Bitches text me I don't read it I just text back I ain’t got
Lord have mercy, Panameras double parked up on the yacht
Money murder fucking bitches hottest n***a fucking bitches on your block
Real N***a