[Hook]
They say I’m too real for these fuck boys
And I’m too real for these hoes
With a bad bitch with that good
She getting low, aw yeah she getting low, low, low
Hell yeah we getting low, low, low
They say I’m too real for my city
I’m too real with that flow
And we be in that Audi getting low
Aw yeah we getting low, low, low
Hell yeah we getting low, low, low
We getting, we getting low

[Verse One: Emilio Rojas]
I’m not a god, somebody lied, I got apostles in the car
And they all are willing to ride, we uptown around Dyckman
Riding around with them dyke chicks and they both bad
And they both mad because usually they don’t like dick
I’m in a Brietling with no bling ‘cause diamonds ain't my thing
And the chick I wipe down, I won’t wife now
Now that bitch don’t get no ring, I’m the Jefe
And I live in the city the Jets claim
I was always a fan of the Knicks so I never be sitting
And watching the Nets game, the best thing in the city except Jay
My middle finger been touching my ring finger
There’s a thin line for love and hate
My father left when I was young and made my mother wait
That filled me up with hunger, now I don’t eat till mother straight
While y’all been spending money on them colleges
We bought so many bottles, we could piss away a scholarship
My money loud, that’s why them bitches get to hollering
It’s quiet if it isn’t bringing dollars in