Real Talk (feat. K Fazo, Playboi Trizz, K.E.L, KmjNIKE, Bebe KiD & LAZRADE)
Yo
You know what it is
This that Real Talk
Big shit poppin'
Boss moves only
Got all my niggas in the building with me
We ain't worried bout your ex-girl, we on to your next girl
Straight up
Aye yo, my nigga
Talk your shit
Yeah I'm zooming in a spaceship
You a pussy boy, when I pull up, you ain't say shit
Yeah
Give a fuck nigga a facelift
Nigga's think I'm playing I'ma put him in the grave quick
Yeah
I got that aim, yeah I can't miss
If that nigga talking, the whole gang who came with
Yeah
The whole gang who I came with
Yeah
Aye
I'ma aim at your top now
Nigga's hella mad, cause they know that I'm hot now
Uh
All these pills I'ma pop now
Your bitch on me, she just tryna take all my guap now
Told her, only got time for the top now
Heard her tell gang tap in come shop now
If I see the opps, I'ma spin they block down
Run it up, we them niggas at the top now
On folks, I've been slidin' since day one
Then I take your main bitch, turn her to my side one
Meet you at the rim nigga, that's a fucking And 1
Catch your ass in traffic nigga, you know I'ma buss one
All my niggas solid nigga, you know I'ma real one
30 On The Beat nigga, you know that's a hit son
The problem with the system, is really nigga's and bitches
Always hollering, that ya'll real, but y'all fake so I keep my distance
Nigga's wanna play, till I leave 'em on a shirt
Driving by nigga, yea I might leave 'em in the dirt
Take your bitch nigga, yea I put her in the Vert
She bouncin' ass nigga, so you know she gonna twerk
Yall nigga's some lames, yall ain't put in no work
You pistol play a nigga, yea we put in that work
Ay, you nigga's lurking, we pull up in the Birkin
Ya bad bitch you know she out here, yea she really twerkin' (Aye)
Give a fuck bout where you from nigga
All my niggas pack them guns nigga
Leave you smart, I'll leave you dumb nigga
And I'm beating on these drums nigga
Aye, Nigga what the fuck you want nigga
Pull up then I stunt nigga
Make me double back, then I end up on a blunt nigga
What the fuck you want nigga
Pull up then I stunt nigga
Make me double back, then I end up on a blunt nigga
And we cookin' spilling back (Fye fye fye)
In the kitchen, cookin' crack (Crack crack crack)
Snow bunnies making wraps (Ha ha ha)
And white girls love the crack
And fake nigga's talking smack
We run up and we smack
I put his bitch on her back, fuck her like a Sac
A nigga want some wax, a nigga wanna bag
So what the fuck I'm doing nigga, workin' off my ass
I just pulled up on this lil bitch up in Kearney
She gon' hop in, and we gon' skrt in the 'Rari
We gon' show up, and we know we fuck up the party
Went and got your nails did, now you look like a barbie
Yea
My girl waiting on me, so I had to come home
Vibing out too much, I ain't even have to check my phone
Nigga's pussy, asking me whatchu been on
I be getting to the bag, I'm in my zone
Caught her lacking in the club, now she done now
Too many drinks, had to tell the bitch to get the fuck out
Beefin' bout a bitch, oh you think you up now
Tryna be low, but my nigga, you still stuck out
Ooh, she gon' pop up
Nigga slidin' home, and he ain't even have to fuck
Hit me with the Heyyy, I ain't even say much
She fuck with me, and for that I know she a real one
Hold up wait a minute, see you in your feelings
I like you vibe, I like your style, you be somethin' different
You be thinking I'm playin', speaking facts to nigga's
Know I got them racks, I'ma stack them to the ceiling (Aye)
Uh
Yea
Said my ex be mad, tell her off my chest yea
Spread your lies, I'm still the one up next
If she talkin', she dropping, boy bout my flex
Boy bout my flex, boy bout my flex
Oh Lord, I need Gucci flops and Patek on my arm
I'ma star, tryna fuck with me, I'll leave your ass at home
Play the card, face down, when I'm flipping through a
This the new way, turn the new page of the book
Last shot in the finals, hit the pass, got the look
Yea, they mad when they glance at me, they don't know what it took
Bust my ass when they glance at me, they don't know what it took
Kiss my ass, give up all my talents to the Bass-God yea
Mission impossible, Rockafella been the dream
Yea they come up improbable, but they never change the team
Motivated by money, going lights and outta gleam
When I had it, it's funny, they all wanna piece of me
You know what it is
This that Real Talk
Big shit poppin'
Boss moves only
Got all my niggas in the building with me
We ain't worried bout your ex-girl, we on to your next girl
Straight up
Aye yo, my nigga
Talk your shit
Yeah I'm zooming in a spaceship
You a pussy boy, when I pull up, you ain't say shit
Yeah
Give a fuck nigga a facelift
Nigga's think I'm playing I'ma put him in the grave quick
Yeah
I got that aim, yeah I can't miss
If that nigga talking, the whole gang who came with
Yeah
The whole gang who I came with
Yeah
Aye
I'ma aim at your top now
Nigga's hella mad, cause they know that I'm hot now
Uh
All these pills I'ma pop now
Your bitch on me, she just tryna take all my guap now
Told her, only got time for the top now
Heard her tell gang tap in come shop now
If I see the opps, I'ma spin they block down
Run it up, we them niggas at the top now
On folks, I've been slidin' since day one
Then I take your main bitch, turn her to my side one
Meet you at the rim nigga, that's a fucking And 1
Catch your ass in traffic nigga, you know I'ma buss one
All my niggas solid nigga, you know I'ma real one
30 On The Beat nigga, you know that's a hit son
The problem with the system, is really nigga's and bitches
Always hollering, that ya'll real, but y'all fake so I keep my distance
Nigga's wanna play, till I leave 'em on a shirt
Driving by nigga, yea I might leave 'em in the dirt
Take your bitch nigga, yea I put her in the Vert
She bouncin' ass nigga, so you know she gonna twerk
Yall nigga's some lames, yall ain't put in no work
You pistol play a nigga, yea we put in that work
Ay, you nigga's lurking, we pull up in the Birkin
Ya bad bitch you know she out here, yea she really twerkin' (Aye)
Give a fuck bout where you from nigga
All my niggas pack them guns nigga
Leave you smart, I'll leave you dumb nigga
And I'm beating on these drums nigga
Aye, Nigga what the fuck you want nigga
Pull up then I stunt nigga
Make me double back, then I end up on a blunt nigga
What the fuck you want nigga
Pull up then I stunt nigga
Make me double back, then I end up on a blunt nigga
And we cookin' spilling back (Fye fye fye)
In the kitchen, cookin' crack (Crack crack crack)
Snow bunnies making wraps (Ha ha ha)
And white girls love the crack
And fake nigga's talking smack
We run up and we smack
I put his bitch on her back, fuck her like a Sac
A nigga want some wax, a nigga wanna bag
So what the fuck I'm doing nigga, workin' off my ass
I just pulled up on this lil bitch up in Kearney
She gon' hop in, and we gon' skrt in the 'Rari
We gon' show up, and we know we fuck up the party
Went and got your nails did, now you look like a barbie
Yea
My girl waiting on me, so I had to come home
Vibing out too much, I ain't even have to check my phone
Nigga's pussy, asking me whatchu been on
I be getting to the bag, I'm in my zone
Caught her lacking in the club, now she done now
Too many drinks, had to tell the bitch to get the fuck out
Beefin' bout a bitch, oh you think you up now
Tryna be low, but my nigga, you still stuck out
Ooh, she gon' pop up
Nigga slidin' home, and he ain't even have to fuck
Hit me with the Heyyy, I ain't even say much
She fuck with me, and for that I know she a real one
Hold up wait a minute, see you in your feelings
I like you vibe, I like your style, you be somethin' different
You be thinking I'm playin', speaking facts to nigga's
Know I got them racks, I'ma stack them to the ceiling (Aye)
Uh
Yea
Said my ex be mad, tell her off my chest yea
Spread your lies, I'm still the one up next
If she talkin', she dropping, boy bout my flex
Boy bout my flex, boy bout my flex
Oh Lord, I need Gucci flops and Patek on my arm
I'ma star, tryna fuck with me, I'll leave your ass at home
Play the card, face down, when I'm flipping through a
This the new way, turn the new page of the book
Last shot in the finals, hit the pass, got the look
Yea, they mad when they glance at me, they don't know what it took
Bust my ass when they glance at me, they don't know what it took
Kiss my ass, give up all my talents to the Bass-God yea
Mission impossible, Rockafella been the dream
Yea they come up improbable, but they never change the team
Motivated by money, going lights and outta gleam
When I had it, it's funny, they all wanna piece of me
Credits
Writer(s): Micah Hilliard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.