[Verse 1]
Real sh**, real sh**, get it while it's hot
You ain't got to pay for it, get it when it drops
Get up on your game, you can get it on them blogs
Get up on your Facebook, and can get it on your wall
She got to have a shaker, and she get it from her mom
Spaghetti ball ye's and the recipe from mom
We getting that pay, yea we getting that bomb
Scarface in the club, boy I'm getting that blanc
I'mma be where they roll that stuff
They grow that stuff in Holland man
I'mma need y'all to hold that blunt
And roll that up for all the fam
For the girl who ride with us, talk with us, taking shots with us
And probably have a job at the doctors office, were it not for us
Even when it's so cold
Shorty go get her clothes off shake it like a snow blow
Shotgun, rolling something, sitting in the gold coast
Dipping in the gold Rolles, twisted like a Rold's Gold
[Hook]
f** a rapper, what you tryna' say
Sound like every other rapper from around the way
f** a rapper, I ain't got the time of day
[Verse 2]
This is for gat-packers and backpackers
If you want to front on that sh**, I guess you a**-backwards
I ask after I shoot, I laugh after your group is done rapping
Dawg, I'm after the troup
Proof in living, are you getting what you're giving
I was told you don't need a shotgun to be driven
We going or a ride, knuckle up or buckle up
Stunt stunt driving, I'm about to double up
Bro still smoking, you can call it Double Dutch
Got the pot boiling, we about to double up
This sh** is done, put a fork in it
Oh we about to pop off, put a cork in it
If you're gonna whine, I'm a Cracker Barrel
Want some cheese with that wine, try this Cracker Barrel
People ask me when I rhyme why I'm cavalier
It's cause I'm moving to Miami in like half a year
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
5,000 days of thunder
Switching lanes while I cruise in these Days of Summer
All 500 like my days are numbered
Words are confused, word to Jason Lundin, but it's all mine
We down at Utica, locals rolling arugula
f** a fendy, got Cubans up in the humidor
I ain't smoking, just suited up like a luchador
I ain't stuntin', just naked women, and new decor
Now we at Syracuse, shorty want to share a room
Watching Kira sidewalk, cure herself with a cure of carrot juice
This is real, this is rap, this is televised
This for Preem, this for Mac, this for Malakai
9, 5, I was Mark Ecko
Dropping hard lines, word to Art Deco
In a car rental, 2012 in that car
Hard acrylic orange net, I feel like Carmelo
[Hook]