Real Talk Young Scooter (Ft. Future)

[Intro: Future]
BMFBG nigga
ATL Jacob
Yeah
Skrrt, skrrt

[Verse 1: Young Scooter]
ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob
Shout out to the ahks, As-Salaam-Alaikum
Motherfuck the cops, run up all the paper
Wintertime, drop the top, flex on all the haters
I'm in love with diamond chains, fuck a wedding ring
Love to spoil myself, I by myself everything
Rolex, Audemar, fuck a Breitling
I damn near lost it all in the dice game
I kept my mouth closed when the folks came
My name on fire in the streets, I'm talkin' propane
Section 8 ENT, that's gang gang
I bet a nigga never snatch my chain
That tripple crossin', watch out for them chain snatchers
All this money I got, I send them kidnappers
I'm all about a sack, I'm talkin' Urlacher
Pack touch down, Green Bay Packers
Bitch I'm 'bout to blow, like a dynamite
I'm doin' a hundred smashin', don't stop at that red light
Black Amigo Scooter, yeah I'm Zone 6 flexin'
I'm rich as hell, now mama ain't no more stressin'
Me and VL Deck juggin', ride in the old Lexus
OG Cali kush, all I smoke is pressure
They call me Jugg King 'cause I'm a plug catcher
You broke boy, you ain't movin' but an ounce or better
Thirty-five hundred on a Louis sweater
Don't hit the door if it ain't five bricks or better
Twenty pounds or better, I'm a big bettor
Real dope boy, I can wrap the bales in the leather
No nothin' beat a double but a triple cross
I take a nigga off, I take another loss
Walk into my house, I got a pack vault
I'm a real hustler, yeah I made myself a boss