On The Real

[Verse 1] Still high off them pain pills you got from the dentist My crib smell like pot and some incense Plot on a yacht, cash crops and a drop color spinach You said the money [?] would have been left Hang the phone up, light the dope up Tell the hoe to clean her coke up And she wait to get her throat fucked Them bad habits, whole faculty some trife bastards We doing anything to live lavish I came a long way from burning dimes of weed in a fiend house Tell my bitch to count my money 'fore she pull her weave out Slang got into where you can't understand what we speak 'bout Mix a half of green with the blue dream ounce Flip it for double, I feel like Barney Rubble Ten toes in the gravel, I'm finding trouble in any form Hustles the fucking norm, riding a fucking storm Feeling like Morrison The fucking Lizard King, I swear I could do anything [Hook x2] Said on the real All these [?] niggas know the deal When we start the revolution all they prolly do is squeal But chill, roll up that kill [Verse 2] I'm penning this rap from the backseat of my car service Backwoods cigar burning, suck 'til her jaw hurting Cash is the gods purpose, they ask is it all worth it The money say so, with color Jango play the block like legos Moved up from Eggos, all the waffles Belgian Spitting snot from all the pot I'm inhaling I plot on a scale of the globe, [?] you let it get cold For the price your boss' soul'll get sold, nigga Move like a poem through the park with all my henchman I pass the cheque to my assistant Snuff a nigga, tell him hold that Grab the phone back, pardon the interruptions Back to discussing bread I should be touching Drunk assumption on the daily My women hate Israeli's, skin color Baileys Driver ditch the fed [?], never fail me (good job Benson) They say I'm fucking lucky Nah, just a druggy 'til they kill me or they cuff me, nigga [Hook x2]