[Intro]
They make believe these n***as too fake
Make believe these n***as too fake
[Hook]
Louie V's with no shoelace
Drinkin' lean like it Kool-Aid
These VVS ain't no fugaz'
They make believe these n***as too fake
I f** with real n***as and bad b**hes
Got the real n***as and bad b**hes
Real n***as and bad b**hes
Now where my real n***as and bad b**hes?
[Verse 1]
Gold Rollie, VS1's
Chain bussin like Vietnam
See it with you, lil bling bling on
Like it came straight from Cheech and Chong
No shoe strings, I mean Louie Vuitton
No 2 chainz, I got 3 on
You n***as goin nuts over pecans
I'm a big dog, you're a pee-on
Bad b**hes and real n***as
Polo, no Hilfiger
‘Cause Players Only Live Once
Rest in peace Chad Butler I'm still pimpin
It ain't dead, I'm still livin
Dead Prez is my True Religion
I'm too hot, I need a cool a**istant
Call the cops because my roof is missin'
(Verse)
Sippin lean like it Kool-Aid
White bread like too paid
Getting more head than toupee
Diamond clear like Blu-Ray
Lil n***a you too fake
Your b**h say she want a real n***a
You try to hide or you can try to save her
Nevermind, I'ma still hit her
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Outfit clean OCD
f** around, put a pimp on a CD
Who the f** got a bank round this b**h
We done pour it up like Ri Ri
AP and wet with the VV
It's the same thing on my necklace
I don't be facin' my dealers just like she on front of the magazine
Thirty rounds in the magazine
Fresh out that jet, lil b**h we traveling
Smoking on gasoline
All I needs is sorta oh fairly
Yea, I'm iced out and I'm geeked
Said f** D in the street
I'm yelling lines in these streets short
[Verse 3]
Real n***as and bad b**hes
Cash getting yo a** kissed
Count twenty thousand like ten minutes
Got a foreign whip with your b**h in it
Hustle Gang, my team winnin'
Sleep then and when I'm still sippin'
Wanna pop the clip and you get rippin'
I'mma f** around this of the louitinents
And it's all about the paper
You block just sweat like the Lakers
Uh, west side, they know me
Two times, for the Doe B
Louie's got blood on my hoffy
Broke n***a, G.D.O.D
I shout like one of Birdman to you
Smoking D-O-P-E
[Hook]
[Verse 4]
LV's, True Religion
All these racks can't fit up in it
VVS got blood in it
My money longer than life sentence
Her p**y good like soul food
Your main b**h is my old news
She got the red bottoms, Jimmy Choo's
I ain't get that b**h a pair of house shoes
Red box, co*ktail
All my n***as jumpin off the porch
All my n***as be going for broke
I'm mad talkin like Scott Storch
Styrofoam, double cup
Blowin up bout two 4's
The baddest b**h you ever seen
Like stolen rims, she's on all fours
[Bridge]
f** them f** n***as, I know they hate us
‘Cause all my n***as getting paper
Fifty bottles, we got em raised up
I done f**ed the ho, so why you got em caged up?
[Hook]