Lyrics

[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 nigga 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 nigga fucking bitches on your block Real Nigga [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 nigga 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 nigga 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 nigga fucking bitches on your block Real Nigga 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 nigga 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 niggas like 57 you a lie if you really think you fucking with I oh my god Ain't been a nigga 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 nigga 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 nigga fucking bitches on your block Real Nigga Hook Real nigga 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 nigga fucking bitches on your block Real Nigga