Lyrics Mine Real - Bodega Bamz, Da$h

Mine Real

Pop that pussy for a papi, lunch at Noble, bring hot saki
Don’t wheelie on Kawasakis, only Hayabusas
My bad bitches don’t smoke no hookah
Hookers be on point, Uncle Sam read my lips
Understand you know, you know, you like Bodega Bamz
Call me god, Uncle sham
Pissed 'em off now they can’t stand me
Nose, I got that candy
More I got that mandate, yo dare me
No reggie, only sour, shooters semi’s
Automatics I got plenty
Loaded Remington, chill on Lexington
I make these bitches cum, I got your wifey sprung
She don’t get no ones, that bird just get these crumbs
I live the life of a heffer, all these workers my sons
What your life 'bout homie
Mines, mines real
Dillinger to desperado, skin look like I’m born in Cairo
Pyromaniac, getting brainiac from this former model
Bottle to my lips, Henny sips until I piss it out
Kid with clout putting that George Jung in your women snout
Then I’m up outta there, homerun
My outer wear look like your favorite store front
I step out and they applaud him
Chick is seeing they adore him
Posters on they fucking wall, fuck 'em all
Then like New Years I drop 'em like the fucking ball
Real God like, preachers say I’m blasphemous
Clorox on the Ox cause I don’t mix beef with the rapping shit
Money come fast but my body off that Actavis
Director calling cut for all you niggas out here acting bitch
What your life 'bout homie
Mines, mines real