In Real Life Beau Young Prince (Ft. Young Nudy)

[Verse 1: Young Beau Prince]
I like my drinks cold, I keep my weed rolled
Like her ass fat and out of control
I keep some gold on my neck and my wrist
Rockin' designer, they not on my shit
Got me a rider, shoot right off the hip
Baow, like a westerner flick
Remember them days when I would cop a Vick
Now I ride with an ounce in the whip, yeah

[Verse 2: Young Nudy]
I got them gats, I got your bitch in the trap, your bitch on my lap, yeah
You is a sap, nigga, don't play with me, nigga, I make you take a nap
I got that 'Nolia, you know I make it clap ('Nolia)
I'm makin' money, they pay me for the rap
Put your feature on your head, nigga (Ooh)
And I got young niggas ready collect the bread (Get it)
Shootin' that bitch at your head
Cut on my TV, make sure that you dead (Yeah)
Come get the money, you knowin' my business
Discuss it with real niggas, don't talk to bitches
I know these niggas be snitchin'
Thirty round, it's an extended
Poppin' that bitch and it empty
Squeezin' that bitch 'til it click, woah