Real by Q Da Fool Lyrics
[Intro: Q Da Fool]
Ah
Yeah
Ah
Yeah
[Verse 1: Q Da Fool]
I just keep having visions
I'm selling work in the stu working man I need a assistant
We gon slide on you while you on the porch imma show that I'm wit it
I'm wit it
I started rapping cause I'm gifted
Stir the flow up with the goop I be mixing
These niggas not real they fiction
Pop a xan you on a high hoe
Come over bring your night clothes
If you ride the dick good I might buy you some gold
You see these red bottoms they came out the bowl
Yeah
I give the streets my life I gave it my soul
HB and Santana and I gave more
No I'm not perfect bitch, but I need a perfect bitch
Off white when I hit the scene
I be merking shit
Maryland nigga I be shooting them shells
Just like a turtle little bitch
And every time I find a loyal female I gotta hurt the bitch
Damn
Never back bite your bruva
Just sit down and talk to your nigga
I'm getting high while I'm watching your house I'm really hawking my victims
I told my bitch we need need a new couch The old couch the pistols don't fit em
Niggas ask me how the fuck do I do it they want me give em a system
I'll die for bruva
A hunnit grand for my sister
That draco a street sweeper
That calico bend like a pumper
Niggas dumping style to run it
7-6-2 leave your bullet hole size of some funyuns
Largo Road apartments thats my dungeon
Stop talking all crazy nigga you just stuntin'
M4, M3 yeah bitch them siamese
Walked out the club with a dime piece
So many bitches could've been a gigolo
Fuck with the plug hard cause his ticket low
These niggas signing deals getting railroad
Taking pictures with the fans do the jail pose
Kill the nigga leave the nigga wit a red rose
I'm just doing what a real trill nigga pose
Rob, kill, steal what a street nigga pose...to do
I don't know who you listen.. to
But them boys misguided you
Yeah
If you wanna ride, bitch ride wit me
Artillery, artillery yeah that shit ride wit me
Put your hands up nigga this a robbery
Your baby momma say you salting me
You smile in my face tryin' talk to me
Damn
Thought you gon' ride wit me
Bust down my first brick you was there wit me
Seen a nigga gettin money don't wanna share wit me
Yall keep saying that these niggas real...that shit rare to me
These niggas not really playing wit they pistols
I keep my pistol you ain't scaring me
I stay down like gravity
At my shows bitches scream and grab at me
If I die bitch it's gon be a tragedy
Niggas slidin put it in that bag for me
Switch up on a loyal nigga that's sad to me
Uh
Had to cut off a cut off a close fuck nigga
If you knew that bitch nigga you wouldn't be mad at me
Ah
Yeah
Ah
Yeah
[Verse 1: Q Da Fool]
I just keep having visions
I'm selling work in the stu working man I need a assistant
We gon slide on you while you on the porch imma show that I'm wit it
I'm wit it
I started rapping cause I'm gifted
Stir the flow up with the goop I be mixing
These niggas not real they fiction
Pop a xan you on a high hoe
Come over bring your night clothes
If you ride the dick good I might buy you some gold
You see these red bottoms they came out the bowl
Yeah
I give the streets my life I gave it my soul
HB and Santana and I gave more
No I'm not perfect bitch, but I need a perfect bitch
Off white when I hit the scene
I be merking shit
Maryland nigga I be shooting them shells
Just like a turtle little bitch
And every time I find a loyal female I gotta hurt the bitch
Damn
Never back bite your bruva
Just sit down and talk to your nigga
I'm getting high while I'm watching your house I'm really hawking my victims
I told my bitch we need need a new couch The old couch the pistols don't fit em
Niggas ask me how the fuck do I do it they want me give em a system
I'll die for bruva
A hunnit grand for my sister
That draco a street sweeper
That calico bend like a pumper
Niggas dumping style to run it
7-6-2 leave your bullet hole size of some funyuns
Largo Road apartments thats my dungeon
Stop talking all crazy nigga you just stuntin'
M4, M3 yeah bitch them siamese
Walked out the club with a dime piece
So many bitches could've been a gigolo
Fuck with the plug hard cause his ticket low
These niggas signing deals getting railroad
Taking pictures with the fans do the jail pose
Kill the nigga leave the nigga wit a red rose
I'm just doing what a real trill nigga pose
Rob, kill, steal what a street nigga pose...to do
I don't know who you listen.. to
But them boys misguided you
Yeah
If you wanna ride, bitch ride wit me
Artillery, artillery yeah that shit ride wit me
Put your hands up nigga this a robbery
Your baby momma say you salting me
You smile in my face tryin' talk to me
Damn
Thought you gon' ride wit me
Bust down my first brick you was there wit me
Seen a nigga gettin money don't wanna share wit me
Yall keep saying that these niggas real...that shit rare to me
These niggas not really playing wit they pistols
I keep my pistol you ain't scaring me
I stay down like gravity
At my shows bitches scream and grab at me
If I die bitch it's gon be a tragedy
Niggas slidin put it in that bag for me
Switch up on a loyal nigga that's sad to me
Uh
Had to cut off a cut off a close fuck nigga
If you knew that bitch nigga you wouldn't be mad at me