[Intro: Louie Ray]
(Ooh, Sav, you killed it)
Yeah, alright
Real boss, nigga, I ain't
Okay
Yeah
[Verse 1: Louie Ray]
Nigga, I'm a boss
Everything you see me in kinda cost
Okay, everything you seein' gettin' chalked
If a nigga tryna spin again, get him chalked
Nigga, naw, for real, I'm a boss
Everything you see me in kinda cost
If a nigga try to spin again, get him chalked
Have to sit down for a ten, I get caught
Fuck the L, go for the win how I'm taught
Okay, I'ma beat the block and go to jail for assault, yeah
Designer clothes kinda smell like they cost
Breath smell like Lemon Cherry when I cough
[Verse 2: RMC Mike]
I can't trust my friends, so FN what I bought
I can't find no Wock', so it's thin what I bought
She a dope fiend, bitch use a syringe when she walk
Pussy wack, so I'm fuckin' on her friend when we talk
Damn, let me hop back in the booth and set fire to it
Brodie sippin' on some gasoline, straight lighter fluid
Girly didn't let you niggas fuck, she let Michael do it
The feds had to let us in the game, they couldn't fight the music
'Cause our shit raw
Mad as hell I drunk my last line, got me pissed off
Tote an automatic sniper rifle, get you picked off
She tryna suck dick, her breath stank, got my shit soft
(Ooh, Sav, you killed it)
Yeah, alright
Real boss, nigga, I ain't
Okay
Yeah
[Verse 1: Louie Ray]
Nigga, I'm a boss
Everything you see me in kinda cost
Okay, everything you seein' gettin' chalked
If a nigga tryna spin again, get him chalked
Nigga, naw, for real, I'm a boss
Everything you see me in kinda cost
If a nigga try to spin again, get him chalked
Have to sit down for a ten, I get caught
Fuck the L, go for the win how I'm taught
Okay, I'ma beat the block and go to jail for assault, yeah
Designer clothes kinda smell like they cost
Breath smell like Lemon Cherry when I cough
[Verse 2: RMC Mike]
I can't trust my friends, so FN what I bought
I can't find no Wock', so it's thin what I bought
She a dope fiend, bitch use a syringe when she walk
Pussy wack, so I'm fuckin' on her friend when we talk
Damn, let me hop back in the booth and set fire to it
Brodie sippin' on some gasoline, straight lighter fluid
Girly didn't let you niggas fuck, she let Michael do it
The feds had to let us in the game, they couldn't fight the music
'Cause our shit raw
Mad as hell I drunk my last line, got me pissed off
Tote an automatic sniper rifle, get you picked off
She tryna suck dick, her breath stank, got my shit soft
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.