| Yeah yeah
|
| I’m a spit some of this real game
|
| Some real shit
|
| Some real talk
|
| Na, na
|
| Whoa-oh
|
| Whoa
|
| Check my watch
|
| Check my chain
|
| It’s simple and plain, the Chevy with the blew out brains
|
| As I
|
| Bounce and mash
|
| Count this cash
|
| Floss and flash
|
| Cop, then blow a zip with Bash
|
| Since everything is big in Texas, then
|
| Where’s the zag’s
|
| I’m a cross the finish line, tell me
|
| Where’s the flags
|
| Brought my
|
| Rag top, should’ve brought the Jag
|
| On the beach, me and Beesh, look at all this ass
|
| I can
|
| Tell you stories, but can show you cash
|
| Give you
|
| Game and secrets that I know you’ll pass
|
| To the next player hater
|
| And he’ll break like glass
|
| Now I got a bunch of people digging' through my pads
|
| So I
|
| Choose to floss, cous', who’s the boss
|
| Let’s ink it
|
| It’s Richie Rich, for those who thought
|
| Re-think it
|
| Some yell it, tell it, I blow it, smoke it, and smell it
|
| And spend tokens with my people who sell it
|
| What
|
| Chorus: Russell Lee
|
| I can show you better than I can tell ya
|
| Tell ya
|
| I can show you better than I can tell ya
|
| Tell ya
|
| I can show you better than I can tell ya
|
| Whoa, yeah
|
| But it’s really nothin' though (But it’s really nothin' though)
|
| But it’s really nothin' though (But it’s really nothin' though)
|
| I could show you
|
| Somethin' dirty deep up in them corners, mayne
|
| What the deal
|
| I could bend the block and make it hotter than a Forman grill
|
| I got the keys to the Chevy Caprice
|
| I can show you motherfucker snitchin', straight to Belize
|
| Now that’s low
|
| Fa sho conspiracy and parole
|
| I could show you real cats doin' time over a ho
|
| I could show you poor and happy, or rich ones who lose they mind
|
| I can show you dame pieces in school fashion design
|
| I could show you street lights and Heartbreak Hotels
|
| I could show you, young cats, gettin' popped with yayo
|
| Down to do, what I gotta do, to satisfy the man in me
|
| And from the looks of thangs, the popos ain’t understandin' me
|
| The original digital scale reader
|
| The pedigree player who be stackin' his Velveeta
|
| I could show you boss stuntin' so fuckin' disgustin'
|
| I could show you rappers frontin', but mayne
|
| It’s really nothin'
|
| Repeat Chorus
|
| I could show you
|
| I could reach you and teach you
|
| I know you and where you comin' from, I understand it
|
| This been goin' on forever, dawg, it’s no end
|
| Life is like a
|
| Bullet in your back from a close friend
|
| Disappointing, to the point
|
| Where I’m runnin' by myself
|
| Never knowin' where I’m goin', start to wonder myself (Yeah)
|
| Money was a necessity, my greed got the best of me (Got the best of me)
|
| You think you smokin' Uncle B, who got the recipe
|
| I’m saying it’s nothin'
|
| I say it sincerely
|
| And speakin' clearly
|
| I’d rather you respect me than fear me
|
| I came a long way, and still, I got a while to go
|
| You probably thinkin' to yourself
|
| What’s he smilin' for?
|
| My dawg Bash about to be platinum, doin' his thang
|
| So if you hate him for it, boy, you fakin' and know it
|
| We takin' this money
|
| Big bundles of bills
|
| I’m like a whole another person when it come to this scrill
|
| Repeat Chorus Twice |