Real 1

Bad bitches love me when I put my thug on
And real niggas feel me, cause I put my hood on
It ain't a backstreet or alleyway I ain't good on Because I'm a real one, I did what I shoulda
Bad bitches love me when I put my thug on
And real niggas feel me cause I put my hood on
It ain't a backstreet or alleyway I ain't good on Because I'm a real one, I did what I shoulda

We was hustlin' on them cold nights
Sittin' on the block, prayin' to God this shit just go right
We was in the hotbox, freestylin', no mic and no hype
But spit the hottest shit the city ever heard
I swear to God this shit was so tight
Mobbin' with my squad and 'nem
Every time we round someone rich, we plottin' on robbin' em
Underprivileged kids in the mix, my momma adopted em
Slidin' in the spot with a robe, mahogany moccasins, do the rope and dope like I'm Ali they tried to box me in
Lenny Saturn shot for the stars, now we skyrocketin',
We only shoot the ones he gets popped if he
tries hoppin' in
Racial profiled from the store that we try shoppin' in, that's crazy,
Baby
The game is in disarray, this a hop, skip away from hip-hop in the day, and I miss moppin' away
I'm hip-firing, take a skip shot to the face
In this pocket's the play,
In this pocket's the cash that'll help me get on my way

Bad bitches love me when I put my thug on
And real niggas feel me, cause I put my hood on
It ain't a backstreet or alleyway I ain't good on Because I'm a real one, I did what I shoulda
Bad bitches love me when I put my thug on
And real niggas feel me cause I put my hood on
It ain't a backstreet or alleyway I ain't good on Because I'm a real one, I did what I shoulda

Bitches been spyin' on me, niggas been lyin' on me
You the one who made it like this
Why the fuck you cryin' on me
Know my opps is tired of me
Keep somethin' that's fine on me
Every time I had somebody back, they stabbed my spine on me
Now I'm takin' necks, cause I don't play without respect
The game is in disarray, as I say from all the neglect
These niggas talkin' about the
same shit I heard on that last song
I bet you I could write whatever song you playin next
Runnin' round here like the son of Sam, that's because I fuckin' am
I don't understand what's so hard for you boys to understand
Movin' through the trap, a hundred grams
must've brushed my hands
We was young trappin' while you was probably at summer camp
Luckily
I'm done with that, please don't make it come to that
Cause I'm still kinda stupid and my brother said his gun is packed
Sot try it, I ain't lyin' nigga
I had to bring my lil one back to life, cause I swear God that boy was dyin' to getcha

Bad bitches love me when I put my thug on
And real niggas feel me, cause I put my hood on
It ain't a backstreet or alleyway I ain't good on Because I'm a real one, I did what I shoulda
Bad bitches love me when I put my thug on
And real niggas feel me cause I put my hood on
It ain't a backstreet or alleyway I ain't good on Because I'm a real one, I did what I shoulda