That For Real
That For Real

Kodak Black - That For Real Lyrics

3

That For Real Lyrics

(DJ Cam gon' show 'em how to drip)
(JT on the track again)

That's my fault, expectin' loyalty from niggas
when really I should be mad at myself
I'm mad at myself, I was carryin' 'round
a group of unloyal niggas on my back and just for them to stab me there
That's what I get, chasin' after friends that ain't cared
Now I'm tryna get the pin to where you stay and then I'm there
You went against the plan, so I gotta cut off your air
'Cause if you bite the hand that feed you, what you gon' do to somebody else?
Can't let that slide, all fuck niggas gotta die, y'all gon' fuck up the world
My pride to the side, playin' Barbie with my lil' girl
Couldn't see between your lines, I was caught in a twirl
I like guns and roses, she like pistols and pearls
That's my Russian roulette
Put a flower set on your neck
I'm here to protect you, baby
So I protect you, baby
See me with these different bitches so much, it get you crazy
So I keep your diamonds on flush like we in the restroom, baby
I apologize so much and you so tired of the fussin'
Ain't gon' hide from the public how much I love this woman
Say you ain't white, you Russian, I'm just glad you ain't my cousin
That's the only thing gon' stop me from lovin', you ain't nothin'
Mark your calendar, Friday, we on a date
We gon' talk over dinner and put everything on a plate
Everything on the table, say everything you gotta say
I'm a reaper, but I'm righteous, a sniper movin' with grace
My plug went to jail, but I made a way
This dope I'm gettin' now fucked up, but I make it shake
I'm a ratchet-ass lil' nigga, looked up and I made you bae
And everything I got, I obtained goin' through pain
It's my fault thinkin' I'ma meet my wifey in the club
It's just like me to go and turn a white bitch to a thug
I'm steady fuckin' hoes, you know you shouldn't have let me fuck
You wish you never loved, but it's too late 'cause you in love
I'm in a 'vert, I skeet out, then I skrrt
I'm pushin' through the hurt, this shit a blessin' and a curse
You hate when I'm on Percs, but girl, you know I need my Percs
I need you like my purse, I ain't got y'all, that's when I'm worse
I'm in the club, muggin' with no shirt
I'm thuggin', on that fuck shit, put my pistol in your purse
I don't second-guess my gut, them niggas flaky and I'm sure
I gave them chances, they turned out exactly who I knew they were
Been too long on this curb, it's time to leave
All they did was take when I was willing to give them everything
I had to learn how to swim, them crackers sent me up the creek
Tried to spread me on the ground, so it's too late to squash the beef
Mom, we made it, baby, you ain't gotta cry
I'm in the back seat, I ain't even gotta drive
But fuck this Maybach 'cause I'm that for real
Fuck this Maybach 'cause I'm that for real

Writer(s): Bill Kapri
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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