Future - Real Talk lyrics

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Future - Real Talk lyrics

{Intro – Future} BMFBG ni-ga ATL Jacob Yeah Skrrt, skrrt {Verse 1 – Young Scooter} ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob Shout out to the opps, As-Salaam-Alaikum Motherf-ck the cops, run up all the paper Wintertime, drop the top, flex on all the haters I’m in love with diamond chains, f-ck a wedding ring Love to spoil myself, I by myself everything Rolex, Audemar, f-ck a Breitling I damn near lost it all in the dice game I kept my mouth closed when the folks came My name on fire in the streets, I’m talking propane Section 8 ENT, that’s gang gang I bet a ni-ga never snatch my chain That tripple crossing, watch out for them chain snatchers All this money I got, I send them kidnappers I’m all about a sack, I’m talking Urlacher Pack touch down, Green Bay Packers Bi-ch I’m ’bout to blow, like a dynamite I’m doing a hundred smashing, don’t stop at that red light Black Amigo Scooter, yeah I’m Zone 6 flexing I’m rich as hell, now mama ain’t no more stressing Me and VL Deck jugging, ride in the old Lexus OG Cali kush, all I smoke is pressure They call me Jugg King ’cause I’m a plug catcher You broke boy, you ain’t moving but an ounce or better Thirty-five hundred on a Louis sweater Don’t hit the door if it ain’t five bricks or better Twenty pounds or better, I’m a big bettor Real dope boy, I can wrap the bales in the leather No nothing beat a double but a triple cross I take a ni-ga off, I take another loss Walk into my house, I got a pack vault I’m a real hustler, yeah I made myself a boss {Chorus – Young Scooter & Future} No nothing beat a double but a triple cross Double cross me, you get knocked off “whoa whoa” We put them dirty birds with the clean chickens “whoa whoa” We put ’em all together, call it remixing “whoa whoa” It’s Magic City Monday, ’bout to fly in town “yeah” Your plug price too high, I’ll shut him down I get a hundred mil, I’m moving underground {Verse 2 – Future} Pink diamonds in my teeth, pink codeine in my cup Pink molly in my system, I got pink pills, what’s up? Section 8, VL, that’s my partner ‘dem Pull up in a V12, you can’t interfere Space coupes, oops, I just made the world disappear If you selling bales in the field show your sk**s Half a ticket for club face Richard Mille Already had sauce and drip, now I got spill Lil Haiti goons right with me till infity When we roll up on the opps don’t show no sympathy I just fu–ed a check up at the store, brrt, brrt I just blowed a check on your ho, brrt, brrt Chinchilla dragging on the floor, brrt, brrt And we getting that bread by the load, brrrt More Pucci for this raw sushi Evel Knievel when she up the speed She just landed in from overseas “word” Once I expand her it’s double C’s “Chanel-y her” Shop sprees, spent a hundred G’s “oh God” I got rich kids, my neck on freeze “brrt brrt” It’s murder squad, they’ll leave you in a freezer “brrt” “I don’t remember nothing, I got amnesia” I go so hard, gotta let it take a breather “hold up” I’m strapping birdies to my mommy seaters Yeah, gang “brrt brrt” {Chorus – Young Scooter & Future} No nothing beat a double but a triple cross Double cross me, you get knocked off “whoa whoa” We put them dirty birds with the clean chickens “whoa whoa” We put ’em all together, call it remixing “whoa whoa” It’s Magic City Monday, ’bout to fly in town “yeah” I’ll probably spend a fifty soon as I touch down “Your plug price too high, I’ll shut him down I get a hundred mil, I’m moving underground”