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real nigga music - ishaan the rit god lyrics

[intro]

for all the real n*ggas across the globe
keep them bottega bottles gold
keep yo b*tch on the road
we ain’t gotta sell cuz it’s already sold (ching!)
for the real n*ggas, real n*gga music
(droppin jewels)

[verse 1]

yo belt fake, yo chain fake, i see the truth
she let a real n*gga slam, like ally oops
my lil dogs gon load the barrel, he keep a duce
i call them n*ggas golden state, they quick to shoot
these n*ggas do it for the gram, these n*ggas boost
i’m tryna ball til i fall, i need a hoop
you n*ggas wanna go to war, i hire troops
b*tch i’m so motherf*cking sick, i need some soup
these n*ggas ain’t built for it, they f*cking fluke
i get a band and throw it up, i gotta puke
i gotta get my dawg some shots, i need a vet
i’m blowing kush, i’m in the air, i need a jet
and i should sponsorship with nike, i need a check
and if yo bro do you foul, he need the tech
and i should sponsorship with nike, i need a check
and if yo bro do you foul, he need the tech
[hook]

keep it one hunnid, that’s how rea n*ggas do it
for the real n*ggas, i call this sh*t real n*gga music
and all the real n*ggas round the globe, know we go thru it
this some real sh*t, i call this sh*t real n*gga music
keep it one hunnid, that’s how rea n*ggas do it
for the real n*ggas, i call this sh*t real n*gga music
and real is truth and royalty is trust, so stay influenced
all my real n*ggas, i call this sh*t real n*gga music

[verse 2]

how could you backstab a n*gga who love you so much
how could you backstab a n*gga who trust you so much
i laugh hard and chase chicken and play with the bucks
and call me derek fisher n*gga i score in the clutch
was up at citgo tryna make me a money collage
copped a zip and broke it down in my mama garage
l*o said focus on the rap so we can get cake
i sold my forty just to help record the raw tape
my heart died the same time that my grand daddy died
so if you on some bullsh*t then step to the side
i love losing, it’s just giving me something to prove
i love winning because losing corrected my moves
n*gga my heart is cold as a refrigerator
a n*gga had ups and downs like a elevator
i smashed a n*gga hoe who tried to play me for my paper
i had his baby cumin’ like a pregnant b*tch in labor
[interlude]

lame ass n*gga, give me my money on time, foreal

[hook]

- ishaan the rit god lyrics

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