the posse cut (who don't) - wale lyrics
[hook]
real n-ggas f-ck with me
real n-ggas f-ck with me
real n-ggas f-ck with me
and i don’t give a f-ck who don’t
real n-ggas f-ck with me
real n-ggas f-ck with me
real n-ggas f-ck with me
and i don’t give a f-ck who don’t
real n-ggas f-ck with me
real n-ggas f-ck with me
real n-ggas f-ck with me
and i don’t give a f-ck who don’t
real n-ggas f-ck with me
real n-ggas f-ck with me
real n-ggas f-ck with me
and i don’t give a f-ck who don’t
[verse 1: wale]
real n-ggas f-ck with us
f-ck you if you feelin’ different
f-ck you phony bamas, fake b-tches, and you little git-wits
prince georges to the district
i be there cause i live it
brought this sh-t to fruition
a couple years back ain’t seen my vision
runnin’ this b-tch like i do not care
o.g. nikes, my shoes so rare
whole lot of haters wanna fight i swear
cause a n-gga main joint wanna do my hair
twist me up, let me crank
rub my back, then let me lay
give me dome, then let me skate
ya’ll bullsh-ttin’, still goin on dates
[fat trel]
i remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed
then time rode, shawty trappin’, plus she get it showed
you try and cop, i don’t know you n-gga, i don’t know
you shop for hoes, i be searchin’ for them calicos
police be lurkin’, i be swervin’ in the tahoe
i’m still young, still thuggin’, i do what you don’t
and you do what you can, make you less of a man
his wifey f-ck with me and really he don’t understand
[hook]
[black cobain]
hi hater, arrivederci, its co-bizzy
hands on the paper, so far gone like i know drizzy
they talk about me, but they can’t live without me
i send my haters x and o’s , that’s how you feel about me
i ain’t bullsh-ttin’ with rap, we handle matadors
the cp3 of this rap game, i bet my n-gga score
flossy in my chip and peps, b-tches and they new giuseppes
my b-tches ballin’ to the maya moore’s, yes
i’m way better than all of them, way better than all of them
mr. i-don’t-give-a-f-ck-about-you what they callin’ him
hate is the new love, wait, hate is the new drug
i body every beat and tell ’em get they black suits up
mr. folarin said he got me trel rockin’ too
this the board administration, n-gga, who the f-ck are you?
p-ss me the purp, i’mma smoke to this
getting money, duckin’ haters, n-gga i ain’t loafin’ b-tch
[hook]
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