Dro - OG Bobby Johnson / Word On Street (Remix) lyrics

If I tell you I'm good, probably you'll say I'm boasting But if I tell you I'm no good, you know I'm lying [Kuston - Verse 1] Yuh yuh Aye word on the street Gangthelabel is taking over man Aye what's up, what's happening Y'all motherf**ers make it too easy for us man I feel too comfortable around y'all, damn Look I don't see the bullsh**, a b d I put soul in my hooks still they hate on me I know a real dope dealer keep sh** low key And all that chatter bout grams don't make no g Man I be riding four deep, riding four deep Always baked out but I ain't buying no weed Shining all day without a diamond on me And I'mma grind till I got Miley Cyrus grindin on me Homie whut, I'm the producer of the future Just manouevre with my Gangthelabel troopers In a jungle full of losers, boy you just a tuna to a cougar When you swimming in the mulah watch out for the barracudas Halleluja, damn I be up in this b**h And when I'm bout to blow any s**er get ditched homie You ain't got no'n on my clique And don't f** with no one but the ones that I'm with Whut [Nkay Blessed - Verse 2] This motherf**er was a rebel in school Good in breaking the rules Now I'm breaking the rules by speaking the truth Had a convo with daddy And daddy he told me lil n***a be you Looked him deep in the eye and tell what n***a been trough What a n***a go'n do if a n***a don't make it, aye Kissing a** n***as y'all know sh** n***a I had sh** Dreaming on the couch made me lose it So I had to get it So I'm coming for yo neck and clique in the back And I swear to god my n***as don't rest I die for my team & I k** for my team When I'm coming for the check When I'm coming for yo neck like [Keelo - Verse 3] Yeah, you know some people think we do this sh** to be famous man We give a f** about the fame though We just wanna get money, get money After that we wanna get more money You know what I mean Yeah don't get it twisted I'm in it for the money cuz A lot of stress goes when the comes Nine triple O is where a n***a from Short n***a taking over like Napoleon Call me young Don Corleon Grinding everynight so I can put a Roley on I just wanna be rich For now I'm hustler low in a 206 with my n***a Jiggs These n***as f**ing with the wrong clique Got a bad b**h hopping on my long dick Got a couple goons ready to ride Black on black like somebody ready to die uh sh**, I got them grams homie Hope the cops f** off cuz I got grams on me And if yo n***as try to put they f**ing hands on me I swear my clique go'n clack I got no gats on me hoe [Dro - Verse 4] Uh yeah Damn I be up in the states I don't f** with Ian Thomas And I don't f** with 3M8S (x2) b**h I'm still about the cheese As I'm spitting on these beats with my g's Trynna make it overseas, it's a cold world trying not to freeze Smoking weed, blowing like a breeze motherf**er Bunch of lames in the game these days be fake I don't really f** with these motherf**ers You be talking on the net, less you talking bout a check Shouldn't be talking to me motherf**er Yo have you heard these motherf**ers Spitting wack bars on the worst beats That's supposed to be the competition I ain't worried Tell a b**h don't waste my time cuz I be in a hurry I be working on my sh** they wonder I be up early Cuz I want these millies and retire when I'm thirty Homie I ain't tripping this a motherf**ing journey I just wish I woke up in a Lamborghini Mercy, whut You ain't even know what you doing You ain't even know what you saying You ain't got it in your own hands man You ain't even writing your own sh**