Still In Da Hood

Yeah

Real Rx

Yeah

Walk in this bitch with prescription pills
It ain't got no seal, I'ma sip it still
Glick in my hand like, "Be still"
You move wrong, you could be killed
Walked in like the king of the hill
Draco sound like Boomhauer
These niggas move like true cowards
In my Girbauds a few thousand

Glock loaded, I ain't gotta cock it
Money rag hanging while I'm in Compton
What's cracking with you, cuz?
Heard you got that ratchet with you, cuz
Boy, you must think I'm a stupid fuck
Bitches slide on me, cuz
There ain't no way I'm lacking, cuz
Up this bitch and back 'em up

Talk stupid, pack him up
Paramedics wrap him up
Glick on me for any occasion
Glock make a nigga speak Jamaican
My head hurt, where the Percs at?
Make a nigga take a dirt nap
I walk in this bitch like, "Hold it down"
Drac' got her titties done, fifty rounds

Glock got a stick hanging out
Bend the corner in the whip, hanging out
He fresh as fuck, he bought the new Js
I'm tryna knock the nigga outta 'em
Nigga, I'm higher than a bitch
I'm so high I see cuz
I grab my Glock like, "What the fuck?"
They say, "Pap, you a fucking bug"

They blame it on the pills and the mud
They say I ain't shit, still give me love
It's fake but they still give me hugs
They still smile when they dap me up
Talk about me when I'm out of earshot
Point blank range, got a clear shot
Head tap and give him an earshot
Niggas move like Undercover Brother

Papi just a dirty motherfucker
Grew up on the East, nobody loved him
He don't need to know how to love nobody
Run down like Treyway, Papi Shotti
I don't know what he said but I shot him
Beam on his head, I got him
They say with braids I look like Rocky
Walk in this bitch like the Shower Posse

I'm high as fuck, I'm out my body
I don't know where the fuck I parked my Audi
If you want a deal, then don't even call me
The opps mad, they super salty
I don't really like doing no hooks
I dish that rock like a no-look
These niggas do not hit no juggs
I'm strapped to the teeth when I'm in the hood

I made so much money on the block
I made way more money than my opps
I say my grace at the pot
Open the safe with my Glock
I can't let them take what I got
Bitch, I had to slang for my spot
Real Rx, who gon' say I'm not?
Bitch say the wrong thing, they getting shot

Glock in my hand, I'm Fetty Wap
Spoon in my hand, I'm Betty Crock
Cook crack in the spaghetti pot
Top rope, Spike Dudley with the leg drop
I beat that work with a egg-beater
Cool it off, throw the plate in the freezer
Cold water running from the sink, leaking
Auntie don't know how to move discretely

Brillo pads all on the fucking counter
Ain't no money machine on the counter
I don't need a money machine to count up
Cuz at the table loading rounds up
Spin on the opps, finna do a round-up
They say I paint the picture so vivid
Nigga, this not a picture I'm tryna paint
I'm tryna tell you how the fuck I'm living

Rap good but I still hit licks
Still I up the Glock and take your shit
Still bring Auntie off of stims
Still in the hood, it is what it is
They say, "Papi, one day you gon' get a deal"
Yeah, whatever, you still ain't getting no deal
I got weed, hard, soft, and pills
Make one call, I'll be there



Credits
Writer(s): Chester Roscoe, Carl-mikael Goeran Berlander
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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