Letra

On the real, nigga, I'm a real nigga, I run around with them real niggas Got real sons, I need a real sitter, when I leave niggas, they get real bitter On the real, nigga, I'm a real nigga I run around with them real niggas (some real niggas) Roll up on ya Ro-ro-roll up on ya Roll up on ya (yo) Ro-ro-ro-ro-roll up on ya (yo) Ay-ay, eight mil' on that new thing, tied up like my shoe string Ain't fuckin' wit' you bitch niggas and that's real rap, but I do sing Make room when I come by, ain't speakin', I'm dumb high Just heard niggas got jokes, it's a matter of time before one die 'Cause them dudes out and them tools out, all sixes like school's out Niggas know if they talk slick, that I'm winter fresh, they'll get chewed out 'Cause them dudes out and them tools out, all sixes like school's out Niggas know if they talk slick, that I'm winter fresh, they'll get chewed out (uh) This shit ain't regular rich (uh; rich), so they end up in a ditch (uh; ditch) I'm not a regular bitch, so when niggas see me, they jump on my dick (uh; dick) He not a regular shooter (uh; shooter), so when you see me, salute her (uh; salute her) Ain't got a knife in my hand, but I'm choppin' it up with some niggas from Cuba (uh) On the real, nigga, I'm a real nigga, I run around with them real niggas Got real sons, I need a real sitter, when I leave niggas, they get real bitter On the real, nigga, I'm a real nigga I run around with them real niggas (some real niggas) Roll up on ya Ro-ro-roll up on ya Roll up on ya Ro-ro-ro-ro-roll up on ya (yo) A-a-ask Jay who he married, eighty thousand in Paris Stadiums with Queen B and that selfie got 'em aggy These-these bitches is light-weight, I-I'm always at fight-weight Wrist game is on ice skate, 'cause we move work through that Tri-State 'Cause them boys out and them toys out, still bangin' that noise out You could get it in the wintertime or that May weather like Floyd's out 'Cause them boys out and them toys out, still bangin' that noise out You-you could get it in the wintertime or that May weather like Floyd's out (uh) All of these bitches in pocket (uh; pocket), I'm 'bout to make a deposit (uh; deposit) Tell 'em to go 'head and gossip as long as your house is the size of my closet (uh; closet) Anybody I call, they picks up (uh), even if they was gettin' they dick sucked (uh) These niggas don't make a mix-up, tell 'em niggas go step they bricks up Tell 'em niggas go step they bricks up (tell 'em niggas go step they bricks up) On the real, nigga, I'm a real nigga, I run around with them real niggas Got real sons, I need a real sitter, when I leave niggas, they get real bitter On the real, nigga, I'm a real nigga I run around with them real niggas (some real niggas) Roll up on ya Ro-ro-roll up on ya Roll up on ya Ro-ro-ro-ro-roll up on ya When we bang, bye Pop pills, now we Shanghai When we bang, bye Pop-pop-pop pills, now we Shanghai When we bang, bye Pop-pop pills, now we Shanghai Shanghai, Shanghai, Shanghai, Shanghai Shanghai, Shanghai, Shanghai, Shanghai Shanghai, Shanghai, Shanghai, Shanghai When we bang, bye, pop pills, now we Shanghai, kyuh (Shanghai) When we bang, bye, pop pills, now we Shanghai, kyuh
Writer(s): Robert V. Sample, Onika Tanya Maraj, Deshawn Kennedy, Christian Ward, Steven Pugh, Stephen Hacker, Irvin Devine Whitlow Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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