$2REAL ft. $J-DOLLA Lyrics

I think I'm too real for the rap game They used to call me K.P., that's my trap

Me and Payne back to back in the foreign things And we'll flood your block like a hurricane

I can't fuck with you artists, we are not the same

Count cash in the bin, swerving lane to lane I can still spot a hater through these Gucci frames

It's sad to say I made a living off of cocaine

Bad nigga but I'm fly though, ride with that Draco

I hit a snake nigga like I hit a fake hoe My lawyer got the case closed and I'm back on the road

Book me for your next show, I know you seen a promo

Bloodstreet, E&T, bitch you know we next to blue

Just like Boston George when he met Pablo

Had to learn Spanish cause the plug come from Mexico

And I'm running through this gas faster than a Texaco

Real niggas do real shit, fake niggas do fuck shit

Snitch on one of mine, I get you and your kids killed

That's real shit, that's no stunting, bird season, no hunting

Bad bitch, real bad bitch, no scissors, steel cutter

DVS is in my ring, Gucci to the shoe string

Copped so many packs that the plug know my first name

My next flip I might go buy me a airplane

I smoke a blunt and pop a Xan just to ease the pain

I think I'm too real for the rap game

They used to call me KP, that's my trap name

Me and Payne back to back in the foreign things

And we'll flood your block like a hurricane

I can't fuck with you artists, we are not the same

Count cash in the bin, swerving lane to lane

I can still spot a hater through these Gucci frames

It's sad to say I made a living off of cocaine

I can never change them, my real niggas

They say we the same, but you my lil' nigga

Still want you to grow and get real bigger

One thing you need to know, that it's real, nigga

Gate niggas the game, grind, let them shine with me

Ten birds a week, yeah, I got that nine with me

Seventeen to keep, huh, that's how we get it

Rest in peace, my nigga, be damned

That's how we every million dollar dream

We bring it to reality, fuck with us

And you forge your own salary

Power never hold my nuts, we execute the casualty

Niggas wouldn't front me, shit, and eatin' so they mad at me

I thank God that I made it through these tragedies

Must go with the same kids who went to bed for me

I mean that, actually, only get fat from me

Made your pain pay, yeah, eat

I think I'm too real for the rap game

They used to call me KP, that's my trap name

Me and Payne back to back in the foreign things

And we'll flood your block like a hurricane

I can't fuck with you artists, we are not the same

Count cash in the Benz, swervin' lane to lane

I can still spot a hater through these Gucci frames

It's sad to say I made a living off of cocaine