Ride on these niggaz

I ride on these niggaz

I ride on these *** (hahaaa)

I ride on these niggaz

Let's get it!

Super charger, the same color as PJ

(yeaaaaah) I got a champagne range

Big *** offed, I got a night-scope aim (Bah)

Audio, video, you caught on tape

That's a way to get ya *** sent Upstate (dayyyum)

In '9-AY! I took them trips down to Lauderdale

Back and forth, like Aliyah

Chances of gettin' rich is like one-in-a-million

(hahaaaaa) Or more like two-in-a-billion

Flashin' lights, my mind's playin' tricks on me

But the Minuteman still do tricks on me

Swear the feds just starin' at a nigga

You know, you feelin' ya heart fall into ya feet

Summertime *** still ridin' with the heat

Jeezy De Niro, Snowman Pacino

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Real *** love me because I talk that lingo

And I'm the muhfuckin' bi-nuss...

They lies, they phonies, they fakes,

These *** ain't never sold the weight

And I'm the muhfuckin' bi-nuss...

They lies, they phonies, they fakes,

These *** ain't never sold the weight

And I'm the muhfuckin' bi-nuss...

They lies, they phonies, they fakes,

These *** ain't never touched the weight

And I'm the muhfuckin' bi-nuss...

They lies, they phonies, they fakes,

These *** ain't never touched the weight

And I'm the muhfuckin' bi-nuss...

Nowadayz the GT's glock black (cheaaa!)

The shoes on that muhfucka 3-80 chrome

Gotta be careful what you say on the phone

I'm 36 souls away

From givin' the mic up and goin' back to the streetz (naww)

متن آهنگ The Realest از Young Jeezy

What's the difference, I still eat the same

A *** paranoid, I still sleep the same

You *** rappin' 'bout blow, like it's a fad

Nigga this is my life, I ain't tryna set trends

'Cause everybody knows how that brick-road ends

Heartless, maybe I need to see the Wizard

Until then, Imma make it snow blizzards

I stay on the block, and risk my life

Day in and day out until a *** sold out

You *** playin', I show you what that street *** 'bout

Hit you right up with them thangs, and come back with the chains

Might cook it in the stove, might cook it in the microwave

Either way it's gonna sell, still weigh it on the scale

You rappin'-ass *** ain't never sold no yams

I'm talkin' sucka-free Sundays and iced-out Mondays

Pin-up Tuesdays and body-tap Wednesdays

You was in the studio, I was on the block

In the kitchen at the spot goin' hard with the blocks

25 for the four ways, choppaz by the door-ways

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