Lyrics
Y'all know what the fuck it is man, it's
Blick, one of the realest niggas in my shit
Rat ass nigga got me on death row fighting for my life
But you know I never been the fool
Real nigga since day one, facts
Free the real, free the trap
Real niggas linked the fuck up
I caught a case had my young nigga taking
The bricks to my old man tipped off the feds
Dope wasn't mine had a three mil deal on
The table and still wasn't shit that I said
I kept it solid was facing a dime said
Fuck it let's fight it I beat 'em they mad
These niggas rats they be dropping them dimes you
Be banging around us you'll get hit with that lead
Thought he was solid now he snitching
Dope in a blender chemer sifting
Showed us paperwork with pages missing
Play with us it be a grave you digging
Four burners like we play the kitchen
Really gotta stay away from niggas
Really gotta put the K to niggas
Really was in section 8 with chickens
How you hanging with him know he told
Oh he took the stand oh he bold
On his best man whoa he cold
Loyalty he done broke the mold
Niggas say they real then go and fold
He ain't even stand on all his toes
He done let 'em intercept the load
Now we gotta wipe the nigga nose
If he ridin' and you know it kill your mans
If he ridin' and you know it all your business he gon' show it
If he ridin' and you know it kill your mans
I'm tryna smoke me a nigga he telling
On me better tell it to Jesus Christ
You don't gotta worry 'bout me my paperwork
Straight and I put that on Jesus' life
Brand new chop got a warzone sight
Heard that he talked then it's war on sight
Glock in the box of the V8 that's on me
I gotta make sure the doors on right
How you gon' change your name that your reals
Gave to you and then switch it to C.S. something
I ain't gon' forget when I see you I'ma put it
To an end like a nigga tryna P.S. something
You was out here in the streets like everything
Sweet and your record got three F's on it
Lil' bro riding like GTA riding 'round
With a weapon got three deaths on it
I done told the feds just bring me to the jail
Anytime that I fail and they ask me to talk
I would never proffer I ain't got shit to offer
I'd rather be a Christian tryna offer some lot
Last nigga ran his mouth to the feds 'bout
Some shit that he knew he can't even walk
Next nigga run his mouth to the feds 'bout
Some shit that he know he won't ever talk
If he ridin' and you know it kill your mans
If he ridin' and you know it all your business he gon' show it
If he ridin' and you know it kill your mans