| Tell me this baller image that you make yourself
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| Creating an illusion, you got cake yourself
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| Not trying to be a lie, you’re a fake yourself
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| Aight, keep fucking around, you’re gonna break yourself
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| You got a misconception about what real is
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| Spoiling out your 300, but you know what it still is
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| From empty to pimpley, it’s simply not a Bentley
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| This ain’t about movie, just let be what meant be
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| To floss in extremes, you took your game
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| But shit, that chicks white gold and platinum look the same
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| You in your zone, tricking on Patron
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| With more shots of silver than a werewolf, be careful
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| Before we go and say he in the clean
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| The best way to test is an ATM machine
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| Here’s a fact, younging, and this is true
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| If you gotta check your balance, then that shit ain’t for you
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| For real
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| Shit, baby girl you said you don’t feel appealing
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| Your body started changing and now you ain’t feeling like you worthy no more
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| Them breasts ain’t looking pirky no more
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| Them dudes ain’t acting thirsty no more
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| You wondering if you had your break yet
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| And sitting at the bar not know what to think yet
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| Cause not one baller bought you a drink yet
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| And some young chick got on the same matching pink set
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| Up under your arms you see your little bit flap
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| Forget that, shakeweights can’t fix that
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| Used to come up in the club and then spot your drama
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| Now somebody’s ass and they mama
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| Them prom queen days is long gone
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| Time to realize you playing the wrong song
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| Every young boy don’t understand
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| And that probably means it’s time for a grown ass man
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| For real
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| Every minute that we be pretending to be
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| Something that we’re not, we cause of an image we see
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| Lost in the Wheel Of Fortune, well, spin it and see
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| Instead of fronting I’mma show you ain’t no limit to me
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| You programmed to do what people commonly like
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| Bringing harm in your life, you need that garmen advice
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| To navigate you from what fascinate you
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| Just cause that’s what they do, kid, you have to stay true
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| For real |