My Real Dawgs
Lyrics
Wake up, H-Dawg
Wake up
Wake up, H-Dawg
Yeah
Wake up
Keep your circle tight (uh-huh)
Never turn on your brother for the next, never shine on your brother for the next
Y'all shine together, that's loyalty
You got it, the next man got it
You hit, your partner hit
'Fore we make her family after the curse
21
Uh-huh (real friend)
(My real dog)
Uh-huh (real nigga, a real one)
You see Nudy, you see Savage, yeah, that's gang, gang (21)
Free my main man Bratt out the chain gang (yeah, 21)
Benz coupe got three letters on it (three letters on it, AMG)
Flexin' my ass, got this money on me (stack it, bitch)
I did good today, I bust a nigga in they shit
Yeah, trigger finger crazy, every time I squeeze, I glitt
I slide with two Glocks for you sissy-ass niggas
Keep it ghost on who shot for you police-ass bitches
You throw rocks, I throw bullets
Draco dirty, it's a fully
I wipe my hands with all this pussy shit and keep my distance, nigga
Some of these niggas be actin' like hoes sometimes (hoes sometimes, hoes sometimes)
I just be kickin' back, watchin' niggas whine (cryin'-ass bitch)
And you know how, like, niggas just sit there, think they entitled to some shit
Some shit that you earned off your blood, sweat, and tears
I can't go for nothin' goofy, nigga grinded for this shit
I'm a grown-ass man, I can't depend on no bitch
They say that 'Lac cost two hundred (for you racin'-ass niggas)
Hit the trap and do numbers (for my ex-drug dealers)
You an opp, I'ma pew
I see cops, I'ma shh (yeah, quiet)
Uh-huh
Uh-huh (Zone 6, nigga)
Uh-huh (paradise)
Uh-huh (Slime, yeah)
Yes, sir, Slimeball, I'm so Zone 6
Damn, I can smell a pussy nigga, man, I love a lick
Heard he got a hundred on his head, let that chopper spit
Go back to the hood and kick it with me and my partner, nigga
Know Osama was my favorite fuckin' chopper, nigga
Put that shit on Big God, man, it popped a lot of niggas
Man, I love when a nigga play hard, give me a reason to drop a nigga
Drop that nigga
Stop that nigga (yeah)
Pussy nigga
Get your funds up and get your guns up (get your guns up)
Better not run with it, boy, you bitchin' up (you bitchin' up)
Better duck, nigga, gang pullin' up (gang pullin' up)
Big 4L, bitch, you know we fucked it up (you know we fucked it up)
Terrorize the city, who gon' fuck with us? (Who gon' fuck with us?)
Lot of money in it, you can't fuck with us (you can't fuck with us)
Haha (yeah)
Ha (yeah)
Lot of money in this shit, bitch (yeah, nigga)
Yeah (yeah, yeah)
Lot of money in it, you can't fuck with us
I was on some shit like, right
If everybody rappin', who gon' shoot?
You know what I'm sayin'?
This nigga crazy
You know what I'm sayin'? So, so-
So I tried it at first 'til he was just like
"Bruh, they fuckin' with you, rap, bruh, like, rap"
And you was like, "I like shootin' better"
(The fuck you mean you don't know DJ Marc B?)
Writer(s): Harold Glenn, Konstantinos Latos, Liam McAlister, Marcus Bennet, Quantavious Thomas
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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