New Dance Show Real Bad Man & YUNGMORPHEUS (Ft. Boldy James)

[Intro: Boldy James]
Yeah, 227, what else?

[Verse 1: Boldy James]
Ayy, I just wanna state it for the record
Beside these VVSs ain't too much about me special
Except the way that I be getting to that bag
Take this shit the whole way, I never half do it
Overbooked, I be jamming while the jazz grooving
They know we touching books like a college grad student
Still flushing Larry Birch for the PAC union
Can catch me out of touch anywhere that PAC moving
You turn it down the way with some heavy hitters
I touch down, they turn me 'round like a fidget spinner
More grams, more bands, got these niggas bitter
Shitting on these pussy niggas like some kitty litter
Talking all this killer shit, these niggas kill me
East side of the trench, I'm from the real deep
Got my money right, the fuck could niggas tell me (Uh)
'Cause I ain't see niggas when I was stuck in cell three
What else?

[Verse 2: YUNGMORPHEUS]
Yeah, your mom's here, shot a dirty cracker in my lawn chair
They all scared, his ancestors mad that he was born here
I'm on shit, trying to keep the peace while palms split
Your dog switch, half the niggas watching on your paw prints
E.T. fingers like Ross, been rolling bigger blunts
O.G. with the runs, nigga ain't slept in months
Motherfuck the crumbs, I need more commas in my funds
Made a couple runs, we gon' get this bag, then we done
Keep that mid packed, nigga
I only twist exotic, hunting down crackers
You were stunting, I hope you got it
We is not the same, might have did it
Never post about it, charge it to the game
Need a digits, 'til a broken wallet
Made a masterpiece, hooks worth half a key
That's what it had to be