Jet Life - Bossed Up lyrics
rate meReal niggas coming up, fake niggas laying down
Trade ...here to stay, guarantee you see me round
Stunting insome sharper.. cocky slacks I'm less than casual
With a focused mind, I'm on a straight and narrow
I just want what's mines, that's only natural
Large estate... with flaws with marble statues
I see it in my dreams, so I know it's coming for me
Niggas trying to block my shine, trust me I ain't worried
Back against the wall, I'm yelling fucking 'em all
Can't hit above, right hand on my balls
Left hand, middle finger's up, cause I don't give a fuck
You can tell from my attitude I'm getting bucks
Slam Cush in the cones got the niggas stuck
I'm heading to the top, momma wish me luck
Haters wish I fail, and I know I will prevail
That's just how I feel, but only time will show details.
Chorus:
It's a real nigga out in
So I'mma wear what I wanna wear, right!
Hustling I'm at where I'm at dog
Just call me when the money, yeah
I pull up, pick up, I grip up
And if you hustle put your hands up, hands up
And all my real Gs stand up and what? Right!
In a hot box, the whip, I make it.. for hear to breath
My pound get official, make a brother want this
Got bags under my eyes for no sleep
Got cash under my bed from O3
One love to my brother, nigga put me on my seat
And still fuck them niggas, tell them I'm rolling one deep
Ain't scared for what's beef till a cattle lost its peeps
Us ghetto kids keep more than a trick up our sleeve
Ain't done it just for me, it's for my sisters and my...
..in the streets like.. I write this
My pretty keep the... all my niggas will disbelief
No disrespect girl, until I'm gone it's MOB
That chopper on the front seat, like fuck it, dissemble me
I got it out there modern like the shoes..
They label me your bitch, you better name me, nigga please
A rebel until I leave, until I leave it's GAT
Oh!
Chorus:
It's a real nigga out in
So I'mma wear what I wanna wear, right!
Hustling I'm at where I'm at dog
Just call me when the money, yeah
I pull up, pick up, I grip up
And if you hustle put your hands up, hands up
And all my real Gs stand up and what? Right!
Two years I was shopping...
Now I get pound money to rock a show
The OGs like lil poppa go
Fly the G town...
Is just a few months and I smoke
And everything will be Gucci
Cush God, you're looking at a new breed
My enemies will kill for me like I'm Drew Breeze
Hustlers, slash author, seed of a rotten apple
Just another dirty New Yorker
Show stops, the hoes jack him
They think it's awesome, go rock 'em
Big Cuban looking flawless
So tell them non-believers take 'em...
King of New York, nigga...
