the real is back - shy glizzy lyrics
[intro]
i heard a n*gga say the other day
he said shy glizzy fell off, haha
i couldn’t do nothin’ but laugh at that sh*t
n*gga, you must not know
it’s young jef’, the motherf*ckin’ best
like my ny b*tch say, “is you dumb?”
[chorus]
they like, “come on, glizzy, where you been? we need that real sh*t back”
i been cookin’ up, i’m almost finished, they like “i figured that”
stay out these n*ggas’ way, ’cause they be hating, do you riddle that?
as*salamu alayk*m, nuh*uh, baby, we don’t piggyback
n*ggas be actin’ funny, but they can play if they want to
’cause i got plenty money, and i got plenty guns too
hk with the silencer, put that b*tch down your tonsils
let a n*gga wild out like nick cannon, see what these drums do
[verse 1]
come through in that drop top, my young n*ggas got them beams
my jamaican thot got wap*wap, told her call up sk!llibeng
and i heard that was your b*tch, so i made her get down on her knees
said i’m a handsome little black boy, but my eyes look j*panese
i never seen a dollar when a n*gga got back on his feet
these n*ggas ain’t trustworthy, they can’t ride in my back seat
i just came off a vaca’, yeah st. regis on a beach
and before i pack my toothbrush, b*tch, i gotta pack my heat
i’m the king of d.c, baby, bow down, kiss my feet
i be in miami ballin’ more than f*cking heat
ever since they took loc and 30, i don’t get no sleep
b*tch, they call me jefe curry, i don’t miss a beat
[chorus]
they like, “come on, glizzy, where you been? we need that real sh*t back”
i been cookin’ up, i’m almost finished, they like “i figured that”
stay out these n*ggas’ way, ’cause they be hating, do you riddle that?
as*salamu alayk*m, nuh*uh, baby, we don’t piggyback
n*ggas be actin’ funny, but they can play if they want to
’cause i got plenty money, and i got plenty guns too
hk with the silencer, put that b*tch down your tonsils
let a n*gga wild out like nick cannon, see what these drums do
[verse 2]
push it to the limit
i’m known to handle my business
if a n*gga ever cross that line, my auntie ‘nem, they christians
yeah, i’m out here gettin’ stupid rich, i’m stackin’ it to the ceiling
my n*gga just had another baby on his b*tch, he feel like tristian
and it’s two things that’s for certain about these streets, it ain’t no wishin’
yo’ family gon’ be puttin’ flowers on top of yo’ head, keep on with that dissin’
yo’ n*gga dead, he tryna retaliate but you keep on missin’
yeah, them n*ggas dead, it was better late than never, thought we wasn’t gon’ get em
dea sn*tched my plug up, tryna do an extradition
boy, that sh*t ain’t stoppin’ nothin’, we just loaded up the expedition
and, n*gga, i could pay for shooters, ’cause i don’t trick on b*tches
i go and hire the clean up crew ’cause they don’t leave no witness
[chorus]
they like, “come on, glizzy, where you been? we need that real sh*t back”
i been cookin’ up, i’m almost finished, they like “i figured that”
stay out these n*ggas’ way, ’cause they be hating, do you riddle that?
as*salamu alayk*m, nuh*uh, baby, we don’t piggyback
n*ggas be actin’ funny, but they can play if they want to
’cause i got plenty money, and i got plenty guns too
hk with the silencer, put that b*tch down your tonsils
let a n*gga wild out like nick cannon, see what these drums do
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