[Chorus One: repeat 2X] God damn, how real is this? I know them Harlem niggaz gon' be feelin this East Coast nigga, but how trill is this? Still don't give a shit my ignorance is still a bliss
[ASAP Rocky] Stone cold love, rose gold slugs I could afford it, I imported stone cold drugs Stone cold, rollin stone, I'm a stoned nigga Write it on my tombstone, I was stoned nigga Don't remember me, as a wannabe, New Orleans nigga slash lean sippin', Tennessee nigga, nah Influenced by Houston, hear it in my music A trill nigga to the truest, show you how to do this!! My all gold grills give her cold chills Said she got a coke feel cause I'm so trill Two dope boy scale but I sold pills No L, put her on her feet, toe nails Them vampires, them blood suckers, them thirsty killers We 'bout it 'bout it, we rowdy rowdy, that Percy Miller No really real, we chilly chill, don't sport chinchilla No bounty hunters, I'm Bounty Killer, I'm bout my scrilla Give me the title, then give me the cash Fold it then bag it, then move to the trap Follow my stash, stealin my swag Niggas is wickity wickity wack Like Kriss Kross, her lip gloss, slip-ons get slipped off My bitch, boss, Cristal We smoking then thinking then burningthat hash Puff it and pass, makin it last Walk in my shoes and no crossin my path Game was for grabs, makin 'em crash Took in a section and givin it back (Fuck the money, fuck the fame, this is real life) (The insights of my trill life)
[Chorus Two] God damn, how real is this? I know the whole world gon' be feelin this East Coast nigga, but how trill is this? Still don't give a shit my ignorance is still a bliss
[repeat 4X] God damn, how real is this? I know the whole world gon' be feelin thisTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
