I went from old school Chevy's to drop top porches You couldn't walk a mile off in my Air Forces And you ain't seen what I've seen I can get a 100,000 in these Sean John jeans I went from old school Chevy's to drop top porches And you ain't did what I did If you from where I'm from you gotta get how you live
Everybody already know jeezy real street nigga Every time you see me all around street niggaz I hope you got yours I keep mine In the club blowing dro throwing up gang signs And you already know dog 745 back to back me and O dog These other niggaz is jokers What they rein up wit I spent it up all the strokers In one night eight bitches sipped bottles of cris Forty grand sit back so you can glance my wrist Keep bread so we carry dem toaster But keep back though my earrings ferocious It's not just my imagination I'm the one in the topic in yo conversation Jack boyz say they gon rob But on the real fuck niggaz y'all don't want these problems
[Chorus]
Black tees, black ones, and a fitted cap The Mack 11 make me walk wit a crazy dap Y'all say we country niggaz yee-haw The money comin back and forth like a seesaw And y'all ain't never seen what we saw Stacks of twenty dollar bills, bricks, or white rolls What they got Lil Pha we don't care bout shit Ludacris how they ride out twenty wit dem bricks Shit I spit it for y'all On the real my niggaz shit I spit it for y'all Who gives a fuck about friends? If you mix the baking soda wit it you can get a Benz While y'all robbing and boosting I'm standing over the stove like the chef in Houston And it's not about the flip mane Want the real bread it's all about your whip game
[Chorus] Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
