Mine Real (feat. Da$H)

Bodega Bamz: Dis strictly for ma Papi shit, na mean. Pop that pussy fo a papi. Lunch at Noble bring hot saki. Don't rely on Kawasakis. Only Hayabusas. My bad bitches don't smoke no hookah hookers be on point. Uncle sam read my lips Understand you kn, you kn. You know you like bodega bamz. Call me god uncle sham. Pissed em off now they can't stop me. Knows I got that candy. More i got that mandate. Yo dare me. No Reggie. Only sour shooters, semis. Automatics I got plenty. Loaded Remington. Chill on Lexington. I make these bitches cum. I got your wife eaten sprung. She don't get no ones. That bird just get these crumbs. I live the life of a jefe. All these workers my songs. What your life bout homie? Mines, mines real... DA$H: Dillinger to Desperado. Skin go like I'm born in Cairo. Pyromaniac. Gettin' braniac from this formal model. Bottle to my lips. Heavy sips until I piss it out. Kid with clout puttin' that George Jung in your reming snout. Then I'm up outta there. Homerun, my outer wear. Look like your favorite store front. I step out and they applaud him Chick is saying they adore him. Posters on their fucking wall Fuck em all Then like new years I drop em Like the fucking ball. Real god like, preachers say I'm. Blasphemous. Clorox on the eyes cuz I don't mix beef with the rappin' shit. Money come fast but my body off that activist. Director calling cut for all you niggas out there acting bitch. What your life bout homie? Mines, mines real...