Real sh*t lyrics

Intro:
Ya (CMG)
This mixtape here
It's strictly for the fans (yogottimusic.com)
Trust me!
I want my album to drop more than you
Call the f*cking label and ask them what happening
Dear world, f*ck it
Truly yours!
King

Verse 1:
I'm on my grown man flow band up flow
n*gga I just brought a phantom off the showroom floor
See these n*ggas sub-tweeting, but his fans don't know
He's a pus*y and I expose this n*gga I said a ho
In the streets n*ggas look up to Gotti and I understand why
Ain't on this slick sh*t n*gga, I see eye to eye
Running around, talking down, playing games, n*gga die
Young n*ggas in the clip, black nines, nothing but fire!
(ay let the beat sing to em)
Look, my brother back in jail, my songs leaking out
Little rappers playing with me
I'm trying to stop from clicking out
Did a show in Alabama, guess my strap was sticking out
Security to try the arrest n*gga, but instead they kicked me out
I've been going through a lot of sh*t, f*cking with this model b*tch
Baby momma left a n*gga and now it hard to see the kids
Record label can't get it right, they pushed the date back
Ross hit a n*gga up try to put me on Maybach
Tip hit a n*gga up trying to give me Grand Hustle
All these n*ggas are my n*ggas and I respect the hustlers
Some of these n*ggas like my brothers
They've been real since day one
Realest n*gga in it, I've been real since day one
And a n*gga keep saying I'm one song away
f*ck that, I'm 5 million dollars strong today!
[money machine sound]
[beep]
See when You heard me doing that money machine sh*t, n*gga
That mean I got that mother f*ck'n sack bro
n*gga I make M's n*gga
You know what I'm talking about
I show these n*ggas how to do this sh*t I'm the blue print n*gga
Show these n*ggas how to make these millions, n*gga
And I ain't drop sh*t but a n*gga b*tch off
You know what I'm talking about
Verse 2:
I'm in a two door coupe
With a see through roof
And the a dope boy roll and a Glock 9 too
Red b*tch on the passenger, she semi cute
But her head some serious, so you know what it do
When I say I love my n*ggers, that mean I love my n*ggers
Yeah, I rap for living, but I gotta plug for my n*ggers
I talk cocaine, cause I know cocaine
Ain't on that criss cross sh*t
I'm trying to stay in my lane
Say I rap like I trap, I gotta stay on my game
I'm strapped 24/7 I got to stay on my aim
They say Keep it real Gotti I say I been doing that
They say the n*ggers are white, I say influence that
I'm on my li-li-liter sh*t n*ggas following the kid
But I ain't f*cked up with it
The streets know what it is
(I'm on my li-li-liter sh*t n*ggas following the kid)
(but I ain't f*cked up with it)
(the streets know what it is)

Verse 3:
My little homies keep telling me to smash on em
Met a bad b*tch and I spend a little cash on her
Cope a new whip so I left the paper tags on it
Got a couple checks but I really hate to brag on it
Catch me in the club, Luis shoe, Louis rag on em
Standing on the couch, popping bottles dropping swagg on em
Zilla up next and I bet the pad on em
Soon as he said the name CMG drop the bag on em
[beep]
Verse 4:
I mean you know sh*t crazy
Cause like the other night a n*gga was in Atlanta
We f*cking around on the internet
And we see a motherf*cking iTunes ad
Like Yo Gotti January 10th
I mean sh*t counted thru me for a loop
Cause I didn't know nothing about it
And its like December 23

Verse 5:
I'm a real n*gga 1st, get money 2nd
Break bread with my n*ggas, we like family so respect it
Bad blood in the camp and n*gga feel neglected
I try to work it out before it get all hecked
But if its about a b*tch, just know I don't respect it
And if you talking foul I hope its ain't in my direction homie
I say if you talking foul I hope its ain't in my direction homie

Interlude:
Ay see
I believe n*gga got a problem they handle it
You don't talk, you don't tweet
If its all good its all good
Know what I'm talking about
Verse 6:
I'm from the city of the murders
Were industry n*ggas ain't never heard of us
They be like who the f*ck is Gotti, n*gga Google me
Oh I'm a f*ck n*gga, that sh*t must be new to me
I'm damn near 30 and a n*gga ain't done sh*t to me
Put your hands on a real n*gga then its 1st degree
Get it (pow)
Hit it (pow)
Split it
Thats all my n*ggas do is murk some
I'm trying to hurt some
Migo got a 18 wheeler, he trying to work some
That b*tch bad as hell, she trying to twerk some
I'm give that b*tch back to you cause she worst-some
I'm out
C-M-G
I'm king