Waka Flocka Flame - Blatlanta lyrics

I'm from southside of this Blatlanta Got shooters in Chiraq Got shooters that'll blast you I'm good in places you've never been They'll give you shots, no medicine So test Flock, don't try that I got little n***as with big guns Take limbs off like that's contact And ain't scared to catch no murder case Every summer, boost the murder rate Won't send em now, I'll send em them later When they cool off, I'll prefer to wait Cause a real boss got to think smart Cause the goal is to get cleaned off While winners beef, we never see y'all Cause the truth is your team soft You ain't good out in these streets, n***a You're a foreign, no green card I been out in these streets, n***a Since a young n***a getting green off Jewelry on out in any hood, won't believe what this ring cost Never tucking my chain in and I'm pulling up in your dream car Can't talk real and not mention me What? You n***as don't get it yet I'm the realest in it and I built your image Turn any block to Virginia Tech You a p**y n***a never been a threat I'm throwing bullets, Eli Manning Any time you can intercept like Brandon Lee die in your set Like blaow! n***a I ain't playin' no games I ain't talking 'bout a Rover when I say I got range like blaow! Frontin' for the fame get your name on the news Cause I really got aim with the tool like blaow! Shoot outs ain't nothing that's new to me I'm only 2 or 3 he gone catch 2 or 3 Right through his j**elry n***a you food to me Shouldn't have said what you said you gone do to me These rappers as fake as a 3 dollar bill And I really don't care how they feel Don't make you a gangster cause you touched a mill ' Put you on the plate, I make you a meal Don't make me reveal the truth about you n***as You know that I will green light you for real It's nothing my n***a I put on your head all bread that you signed for your deal Boy we know you a façade Know you won't ride, everything you say a lie Ain't no surprise, beefing with me isn't wise All these crooks oversize, swallow your pride Or you can swallow this nine, really don't matter to me I let you decide maybe I might let you slide, sike, homicide Before this rap I was your favorite rappers favorite shooter It ain't a question I'm a rider like I drive a hoover I'm too G so without me there wouldn't be no Google Your street cred a 3.50 without my approval