[Verse 1:]
Me and my opps like LA and Boston
I thought of that one on the plane on a flight from LA to Boston
Now I’m doing shits with Don Cannon, but I’m the same ni- used to tote cannons
Fell in love with the streets
We the realist
And I can put it on my soul three dope
Ghetto rich, bang the 40 ‘til the metal stick
My ni- pray to the devil, he on some rebel shit
After me, Butch, and Rick go stupid on this Premo shi
These are the real Sopranos
They know ha, ha, ha, it’s Heem n***a (not the only one, the golden one n***a)
Woo
I’m back niI’m feeling better then ever
You know, they say, they say the best feeling when you comfortable n***a Sopranos, look
It’s the one them n***a doubted, the one who really ‘bout it (Yeah)
Yeah they know Heem I showed up when it counted (They know)
Daddy in the county, runnin’ from the bounty (Like that)
I’m walking ‘round strapped don’t nobody tell mommy
I was 16 when I did my first robbery, brodie got life and he ain’t even catch the body (bap, bap
Bap)
We was livin’ trife baggy jeans wit’ the shotty
Free that n***a Sly he the black John Gotti
All my hoop dreams turned to cocaine hobbies, selling dog man make ‘em move like zombies
Three for the 50, bundles 120, dream to make a milly ‘fore the feds come get me
But that shit risky, fake love iffy, n***a ain’t loyal and you know the streets tricky
Used to be the Rollie, now I want the Richie
Bitches gon’ choose I’m the man if she pick me
Got it from the mud, now we run the city (They know)
And this lil n***a wit’ me down to blow the whole 50 (Bah, bah, bah)
Draco with the tittie (Brrrrrrr)
Fo’ nick glizzy (Damn)
And the same sawed off when them boys hit Ricky (Woo)
Heard he had a problem, tell ‘em get wit’ me (What up?)
And the one who sent the message gon’ die on delivery (Bah, bah, bah)
Started V6 (Skrr)
Then I drove hemmi, coulda bought a Benz but I’m plottin’ on the Bentley (N***a)
I don’t do friends (Uh Uh)
‘Cause most ni- envy, and I don’t need a n***a
That I love tryn’ end me
Still ah get busy (Blat)
Ain’t shit pretty (Uh Uh)
It’s gritty, hardest since Kiss still feel me
This ain’t no facade (Nah)
I’m givin’ you the real me, build me, put it on my tab know we filthy
Walked away clean (Yeah)
I still feel guilty, all white linen the Versace shirt silky n***a (uh, ha, ha)
They know
It’s Heem n***a reportin’ live from the Eastside n***a Eastside, Buffalo
Trenches n***a, where it go down n***a Everyday, gunplay, sound like a show down niIt’s like that