Testo Real Sh!t - EMB
Testo della canzone Real Sh!t (EMB), tratta dall'album Real Sh!t
Oh wait my bad, I gotta switch it up because y'all don't want to hear no more of that woke shit
So I'm gonna get on this real shit
Yeah, come on
Yeah, check it out
These diamonds bright, they might change yo skin complexion
I'm above these niggas, they below me like the comment section
If I let you in my presence just consider that a blessing
Bitches know I've been the man ever since an adolescent
My niggas stone-cold solid, you think you gon break 'em?
The baddest bitches in my corner, you think you gon take 'em?
I'm an old soul, but rockin the latest
You gon end up on a road trip tryna measure my greatness
She my passenger princess, she ain't gotta drive it
Boy, my clothes from Amazon, I don't gotta rock designer
Chanel neck piece, boy you know, she lookin good
Chop 'em like a lumberjack, boy I wish a nigga would
That's real shit, we'll tell you that's real shit (Uh-huh)
That's real shit, they'll tell you that's real shit
(Uh-huh)
That's real shit, he'll tell you that's real shit (Uh-huh)
That's real shit, she'll tell you that's real shit
Boy, y'all know I've been the shit, seagull lookin ass
Choppa leave a nigga bald, eagle lookin ass
Boy, you always buggin? Blue beetle lookin ass
Boy, I bring machines to war, Don Cheadle lookin ass
Pat, pat, pat, pat, Little Einstein
I don't take my bitch to cheap places, we go to fine dine
All you niggas inconvenient, cuttin into my time
Between speakin up and disrespect, there's a fine line
Just got off the phone with Rihanna, she's still workin, brother
You know, you ain't never gon beat me, so it ain't worth it, brother
I ain't trying to say you ain't shit, but you hurtin, brother
I just said what's up, you had to buy a Birkin, brother
That's real shit, we'll tell you that's real shit (Uh-huh)
That's real shit, they'll tell you that's real shit
(Uh-huh)
That's real shit, he'll tell you that's real shit (Uh-huh)
That's real shit, she'll tell you that's real shit
She my passenger princess, she ain't gotta drive it
Boy, my clothes from Amazon, I don't gotta rock designer
Chanel neck piece, boy you know, she lookin good
Chop 'em like a lumberjack, boy I wish a nigga would
That's real shit, we'll tell you that's real shit (Uh-huh)
That's real shit, they'll tell you that's real shit
(Uh-huh)
That's real shit, he'll tell you that's real shit (Uh-huh)
That's real shit, she'll tell you that's real shit
Chop, chop, hurry up, chop chop
Chop, chop, hurry up, chop chop
Chop, chop, hurry up, chop chop
Chop, chop, hurry up, chop chop
Aye, you know I'm out of lyrics, bruh you can turn the song off
Credits
Writer(s): Elijah Breaux
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Disclaimer:
i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare
direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia
un artista o
un publisher.