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eastside reup - real rap كلمات الأغنية

[verse 1: g.t.]
real rap (real rap), all facts (all facts)
dope spots got me pullin’ gucci off my back (ayy, ayy, ayy)
dice game every day, n_gga, bet it, bet
fall through the club, let her sit her p_ssy on my lap
i want a wraith, i want a jet
i don’t want you around, you don’t run up a check
flew through the bag, gon’ hit the set
new louis bag with the checks, that ain’t get her wet
yeah, runnin’ through the dope like it’s ’86
the clio fell in love with that grape sh_t
hit the bay wrong way, no delay, b_tch (no delay)
in 63 with tint, me and philthy rich
you gotta watch these n_ggas, they switch quick (uh_huh)
if they ain’t talkin’ ’bout no cake, they ain’t talkin’ sh_t
it’s crazy i’ll get paid just to talk sh_t
n_ggas say they got bricks, barely got zips
how you rap about some sh_t that you don’t do?
i guess n_ggas really rapping over pro tools
i put the work back together with my blow tools
could step on it, but i ain’t got on my blow shoes
it’s real raw, n_gga, not no fentanyl
tired of gettin’ f_cked over? then give me a call
bro packed them n_ggas down, they might be the law
and it’s a thousand motherf_ckers waitin’ on me to fall
[verse 2: eastside reup & peezy]
ayy, this real rap, n_gga, no lie
that dog get you anything that you wanna buy
wrap ’em up and send ’em out, we let birds fly
view of the town, yeah, the crib got a bird’s_eye
how these n_ggas rappin’ sh_t that they don’t do?
i was that n_gga walkin’ ’round with forty in my shoes
left pocket full of dubs, right all blues
get to that money, we ain’t worried ’bout what y’all do (naw, naw)
[?] fence in wheat timbs, i’m in grind mode
run to that chicken, i can count it with my eyes closed
if you ain’t in it for the money, what you grind for?
i’m up early workin’ in a whole ‘nother timezone (ayy)
n_gga

[verse 3: peezy]
this that real rap, n_gga, no lie
go’n put it on the scale and make sure it’s right (add it up)
jeans costed me a band, ho, i know they tight
was on collins in a wraith when they was on they bikes
raf simons on my feet, sippin’ on that muddy (drank)
b_tches cost me five hundred even though they ugly
at the gamblin’ house shootin’ even though they cuttin’
best friends with the shooters, if i call, they coming (yeah)
caught the cases, stood tall, i ain’t let it break me (f_ck naw)
hit me when they touch down, to let me know they made it (okay)
still show them n_ggas love even though they hate me (f_ck it)
r.i.p. my n_gga mox, and free my n_gga 80’s (free him)

- eastside reup

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