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I smack all y'all niggas And niggarrettes Word to Ghost Uh Good business, I take pride in making great moves Wear a skully in the summer, yet I stay cool Knew cats that curved the bag so they could stay true Been hungry so long, they starting to hate food Heat on me for the bullshit, my weight move (move) I was on the 'Lo, they was on J. Crew (uh) I was on the dank, they was on K2 (uh) They was moving eights, I had eight full Pounds of the raw, hand it off, make 3 points or ounce it out and get yours Give 'em a couple grams over, they gon' feel you Can't give you all of this game, might have to kill you Barbecue and mildew, you know you done fucked up right? Where's Bill Duke Fake nigga, no matter how you dress it up, it's still you Make 'em disappear, I'm skillful Watch 'em appear, under my (?) Can't even trust niggas be out to get you Don't let your last meal be the hand that fed you My Mexican homie flip the work good, he used to wrestle Shit got hot over there he had to refuge Real hate over fake love, any day SongtexteReal hate over fake love, any day Every man at your man, like every chick ain't your chick Understand where we stand, you can't sit where we sit We started off hand in hand, then moved to brick after brick You a fan or you fam, y'all niggas quick to forget Drug dealers scouting like, "Who got it to send it out?" Breaking down the ounces, make samples and give it out Live in the mountains, phone service be in out Bag full of birds, the only way we could chicken out Try to manage your vibe energy A fake friend could do more damage than five enemies Barely see me with beef, like fried Kennedy But bring your instrument, we could have us a live symphony In a tight alley, weed be like Cali's Gunplay scenes, I squeeze like Mike Lowry All you see is sticks and signs, a light rally Red track suit, new Swizz beat, white Bally's (Vado) Real hate over fake love, any day (Uh-huh. uh, uh, uh) Real hate over fake love, any day Aus Songtexte Mania