Taliban Bundy - You Don't Really lyrics

[Intro: Flow] I`m so Piru but I got a blue microphone ain't that a shame But these misfit headphones are dope And ion even be matching no more I got a red shirt, grey shorts, lime blue socks, pink shoes, and a black hat on Red watch and a purple watch And blueple paink**ers Yeah [Verse 1; Flow] Scope on the chopper, just to make sure it's you I can zoom in and turn this b**h into a photo shoot Highway to Heaven boy it's time for you to ride out Smoking on that Bob Marley up in Amy Winehouse My attitude changed since my girlfriend went in labor Cuz I be f**ed up off that medicine they gave her So I gave her my three aided I would give my boot for ya Yeah my name Flow b**h but you can call me Lucifer I just let that chrome speak Keep that gun in arm reach Yeah I'm from New Orleans but my swagga come from long beach I'm about to k** 'em they goin have to k** me So role another spliffy So they can engineer me Pistol to ya ear, I'm hoping you can hear PISTOL TO YA EAR, I'M HOPING YOU CAN HEAR ME Yeah, new Coup call it brazy red Short n***a with a dick like a baby leg [Hook; Slim Boogie] n***as talk a lot of sh** but I'm just hearing verbs Cuz I'm getting money, smokin' weed, and sippin' syrup My n***as flippin' money, flippin' b**hes, flippin' birds And I'll getcha gone All I do is get a word No you don't really want it You don't really want it No you don't really want it You don't really want it No you don't really want it You don't really want it No you don't really want it You don't really want it [Verse 2: Taliban Bundy] b**h it ain't beef, but I ain't f**ing with you Urkels I'll say it's all grave and still f** around and murk ya Don't desert the Fam Gang, we'll f** around and jerk ya Jack you off a J P, general purpose b**h get my money, and twist up all my purple Ion think sh** funny but commas in them circles I'm not a comical person Funny that yo girl say I'm much hotter in person I got her breakfast you got her them purses She came I came guess the timing was perfect It's not even worth it, don't even try to dad it You know I played with the heat like I'm in Miami Really played with them blocks, I should win a Grammy I ran the streets so much I could've pulled a hammy Two Gs on yo helmet like you go to Gramland John make sh**, b**h I k** you on yo campus Fam Gang, Flame Gang you ain't in the family n***as tryna ride the wave like we live in Cali p**y [Hook; Slim Boogie] n***as talk a lot of sh** but I'm just hearing verbs Cuz I'm getting money, smokin' weed, and sippin' syrup My n***as flippin' money, flippin' b**hes, flippin' birds And I'll getcha gone All I do is get a word