Southside - FoReal lyrics

[Intro] I just told ’em turn my headphones all the way up Uh, huh Yeah Uh, huh Yeah Damn, Sizzle, it’s hard for me to rap on these raw a** beats [Verse 1] It’s G Herbo, baby And I come straight from the blizzock Luckily I ain’t a felon, but I got caught with the glizzock And I just bought me a white Sky Dweller, finna bust down my wrist watch 2018 my year, watch b**h, I’m only flying from the cliff, watch Yeah, that’s the jet, so I travel with the Tec When I land, put the engine in the rear, watch And we back to back, Bentley’s all matte black Hit the [?], told that b**h [?] I heard it’s some trappers in here, huh What you make this year? Anyway, it’s some hammers in here, pistol clappers in here, kidnappers in here We just got left in the jungle and turned to some animals b**h, we adapters in here Pull up shooting sh** from mid-range, we Toronto Raptors in here Mama told me, “can’t live in fear” I changed the atmosphere, ayy n***a I ain’t drunk that Act’ in a year Only if Cap was here [Chorus] I don’t talk that sh**, I’ll end n***as rap career I was in the streets too much and it held me back for real I was in the the trap for real I hit 175 racks for real Still ride with them straps for real But I’ll [?] streets, I ain’t going back for real Blick on my lap for real, for real And it’s a known fact for real Get k**ed ’bout Kobe and Cap for real Pull up, brrat for real (brrat) We sold crack for real (crack) In the stu’, strapped for real (strapped) Lil’ Herb back for real (back) [Verse 2] n***as is b**h No h*mo, but my Glock got a dick 20 plus, four or more I used to get all the way up and go broke Said to myself I ain’t doing that no more Walk ups on n***as, glide slow low Jedi blow four from the .44 Might as well let off the .2, ain’t got no more On the way home, it’s 12 on [?] Big 40 hollows, spin like hollows Fully auto, [?] Racks on me now like I just hit the lotto Ain’t in the hood no more, but I’m not far though b**h I’m sauced up, taco Bossed up, El Chapo [?] for war right now though That b**h be ready where I go n***a what’s that, Posto (Posto!) Reeking up my clothes, ayy What it say on my clothes? Givenchy, Leonardo Never sold my soul All my show sold All these n***as hoes Here go a bullet hole [Chorus] I don’t talk that sh**, I’ll end n***as rap career I was in the streets too much and it held me back for real I was in the the trap for real I hit 175 racks for real Still ride with them straps for real But I’ll [?] streets, I ain’t going back for real Blick on my lap for real, for real And it’s a known fact for real Get k**ed ’bout Kobe and Cap for real Pull up, brrat for real (brrat) We sold crack for real (crack) In the stu’, strapped for real (strapped) Lil’ Herb back for real (back)