Bossed Up (feat. Jet Life & Smoke DZA)

Real niggas coming up, fake niggas laying down

Trademark I'm here to stay, guaranteed you'll see me 'round

Stuntin' in some sharp apparrel, khaki slacks, I'm laxed and casual

With a focused mind, I'm on a straight of narrow

I just want what's mines, that's only natural

Large estates, cherry wood floors with marble statues

I see it in my dreams, so I know it's coming for me

Niggas tryna block my shine, trust me I ain't worried

Back against the wall, I'm yelling, "fuck 'em all"

I came here to ball, right hand on my balls

Left hand middle fingers up cuz I don't give a fuck

You can tell from my attitude I'm getting bucks

Strong kush in the cones got a nigga stuck

I'm headed to the top, momma wish me luck

Haters wish I fail, even though I will prevail

That's just how I feel, but only time will surely tell

Uh, It's a real nigga outing

So I'mma wear what I wanna wear, Right

Hustlin', I'm mad where I'm at dawg

Bitches call me when the money there

I pull up, pick up, now grip up

Uhhh, and if you hustlin'

Put your bands up, bands up

And all my real G's stand up and what? Riiight

And I hotbox the whip, I make it hard for her to breathe

My pound game official, make a brother won't leave

Got bags under my eyes from no sleep

Got cash under my bed from '03, one love to my plug

That nigga put me on my feet, it's still fuck them niggas

Tell 'em I'm rolling one deep, I ain't scared fool, whats beef?

To a cattle who lost his peeps, us ghetto kids

Keep more than a trick up our sleeve, I ain't doing that just for me

This for my sisters and my C's

Or men thats in these streets like A-wax, I ride D's

I pray they keep their face on, my niggas with disbelief

No disrespect girl, but til I'm gone it's M.O.B

That chopper on that front seat like fuck it, its M-O-me

I got it out that modern Nike shoes, now no cleats

They label me a beast, "you better than me?" "nigga, please."

A rebel 'til I leave, and 'til I leave, its J-E-T, oouutt

Uh, It's a real nigga outing

So I'mma wear what I wanna wear, Right

Hustlin', I'm mad where I'm at dawg

Bitches call me when the money there

I pull up, pick up, now grip up

Uhhh, and if you hustlin'

Put your bands up, bands up

And all my real G's stand up and what? Riiight

Riiiiight, two years ago I was chopping O's

Now I get pound money to rock a show, the OG's like "little pappa go"

Fly to H-town just to hip hop a dose, oh, I'm too popular to be normal

Die off that OG every night, fool, I'm immortal

One time for my little bro, little doobies

Just a few months and I smoke, and everything will be gucci

Kushed God, you looking at a new breed

My N.O. niggas will kill for me like I'm Drew Breeze

Hustler, slash, author, see that a rotten apple just another dirty New Yorker

Show stopper, hoes jock him, think he's awesome, go rock 'em

Big Cuban looking flawless, so tell them non-believers they can hold my Johnson

King of New York, nigga, Rugby Thompson