Dave East - Real Friends lyrics

[Part 1: Real Friends] [Intro] How many of us, how many of us? Real friends How many of us, how many of us? [Verse 1] How many of us? Fifty women, don't know how many rubbers How many Ubers? Could never count up how many want us How many models leaving something at the crib to come back or at least have a reason to? "Bye, it was nice meeting you" Same ones you show the most love talking 'bout lining you Hate you, then they love you, you winning, so they LeBron-ning you Then you change your number, they sick cause ain't no finding you Fake friends comical, see, me, I'll probably smile at you [Verse 2] Real friends, how many of us? How many of us? How many jealous? Real friends It's not many of us, we smile at each other But how many honest? Trust issues Switched up the number, I can't be bothered I cannot blame you for having an angle I ain't got no issues, I'm just doing my thing Hope you're doing your thing too I'm a deadbeat cousin, I hate family reunions f**ed the church up by drinking at the communion Spilling free wine, now my tux is ruined In town for a day, what the f** we doing? Who your real friends? We all came from the bottom I'm always blaming you, but what's sad, you not the problem Damn, I forgot to call her, sh**, I thought it was Thursday Why you wait a week to call my phone in the first place? When was the last time I remembered a birthday? When was the last time I wasn't in a hurry? Uh Tell me you want them tickets when it's game-time Even to call your daughter on her FaceTime Even when we was young I used to make time Now we be way too busy just to make time Even for my real friends [Hook] I guess I get what I deserve, don't I? Word on the streets is they ain't heard from him Uh, guess I get what I deserve, don't I? Talk down on my name, throw dirt on him [Verse 3] I couldn't tell you how old your daughter was Couldn't tell you how old your son is I got my own junior on the way, dog Plus, I already got one kid Couldn't tell you much about the fam, dog I just showed up for the yams, dog Maybe fifteen minutes, took some pictures with your sister Merry Christmas, then I'm finished, then it's back to business You wanna ask some questions 'bout some real sh**? Like I ain't got enough pressure to deal with Please don't pressure me with that bill sh** Cause everybody got 'em, that ain't children Oh, you been nothing but a friend to me n***as thinking I'm crazy, you defending me? It's funny, I ain't spoke to n***as in centuries To be honest, dog, I ain't feeling your energy Money turn your kin into an enemy n***as ain't real as they pretend to be Looking for real friends, how many of us? How many of us are real friends to real friends 'Til the real end, 'til the wheels fall off, 'til the wheels don't spin To 3 a.m., callin', how many real friends? Just to ask you a question, just to see how you was feeling How many? For the last you was fronting I hate when a n***a text you like, "What's up, fam, hope you good" You say, "I'm good, I'm great" The next text they ask you for something, how many? What's best for your family: immediate or extended? Any argument, the media'll extend it I had a cousin that stole my laptop that I was f**ing b**hes on Paid that n***a 250,000 just to get it from him Real friends, huh? Real friends [Hook] I guess I get what I deserve, don't I? Word on the streets is they ain't heard from him Uh, guess I get what I deserve, don't I? Talk down on my name, throw dirt on him [Part 2: No More Parties in L.A.] [Intro] La-di-da-da-da (I like to play) La-da-da-da-di-da-da-la Let me tell you, I'm out here from a very faraway place All for a chance to be a star Nowhere seems to be too far [Hook] No more parties in L.A Please, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh No more parties in L.A Please, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh No more (Los Angeles) Please (Shake that body, party that body) Please (Shake that body, party that body) Please (Shake that body, party that body) [Verse 1] Hey, baby, you forgot your Ray-Bans And my sheet's still orange from your spray tan It was more than soft p**n for the K, man She remembered my Sprinter, said, "I was in the gray van" Um, well, cutie, I like your bougie booty Come Erykah Badu me, well, let's make a movie Hell, you know my repertoire is like a wrestler I show you the rope, connect the dots I cut your girl in the valley…