Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song In Real Life, artist - Sada Baby.
Date of issue: 05.08.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
In Real Life |
Whoop |
(Sangre grande, sangre grande) |
Huh |
Huh, huh, huh, I get tired |
Tired, huh |
Hmm, tired |
Uh (I got tracks on this) |
Huh, soon as I get tired of a nigga, huh |
I don’t need no help, I’m gon' slide on that nigga, huh, huh |
Let me get him myself, huh |
I got old choppers sittin' on the shelf, huh |
Waitin' on they turn to make a pussy nigga melt, huh |
Heavyweight champ in my hood, got the belt |
I’m a 55 nigga, 5L, fuck 12, I do |
What I does |
Everything 'bout my motherfuckin' Bloods |
Yeah, huh, it’s 'bout us |
And not a nan', not a thing get put above |
Smoke a nigga boots, left his socks in the chimney |
Keep the Glock aimed at a opp top in the bity |
I’m the top opp, tell them lame niggas bome get me |
You know Whop be done left your brains on your lil' sister |
Nigga, yeah, bando a big-ass home |
We both learned how to speak Spanish, we in that mode |
El Chapo too, a Midget Mac with no backbone |
Knock a letter off that nigga name on his headstone |
Uh, piss on your big homie grave |
Piss off the rest of your homies 'round this bitch not doin' a thing |
Huh, paid for my ice, nigga never took a thing |
And dealt with some snakes, should’ve never been in they lane |
Ain’t gotta speak on the aftermath |
'Cause every nigga involved with it felt pain right after that |
Ye gon' flip the house in two days, he an acrobat |
Nigga caught a Smitty in LA, he ain’t ask for that |
Banned another nigga from my city, he ain’t been here since |
I be in the state countin' cake, stay booked up there |
Tried to clout chase 'bout a play, don’t make no sense |
The main reason your boss ain’t fuckin' with you, actin' like he don’t care |
For the last time, fuck a damn slime |
I’m cap, say it every time it cross my— |
I’m cap, I’ma say it every time it cross my mind |
Know it’s that, I ain’t humble if you cross my line |
Mari told me let you bitches know I stand on business, huh |
Nigga tried to tag me out, I shot him in his pivot, huh |
Caught a war wound, that’s why I been coverin' my finger |
Lame nigga lost a leg, he can’t even linger, huh |
If he just stayed a lil' bit longer, I’d be undefeated, huh |
In my opinion, it’s a draw, I gave him what he needed |
He ain’t get what he want, but we had both walked away bleeding |
I mean he walked away limping, I hopped in the E-lade with my people, huh |
Sick house in the 'burbs, ain’t show— |
Sick house in the 'burbs, ain’t had to show my neighbors I’ll get even |
That shit that happened in the A was two years ago, better not believe 'em |
Got to know your baby still was out cold, I’m anemic, huh |
Nan' nigga off Earth ever treated me like a lick, son |
Nan' nigga off Earth ever treated me like he was a demon |
Huh, nah, nigga, uh |
Shoe was on the other foot, if I upped the gun, I’d’ve squeezed it |
Huh, the FN that I had, that was they shit, huh |
Never had no CC-dub that I could take with me |
At the same time, still reach when they play with me |
Did what the fuck I had to do so I could stay livin' |
Ain’t no nigga pull no blick on me when I went next door |
It was already out, I asked him, «What's that for?» |
Huh |
Not a goddamn thing, for sure, huh |
Dumped the mag, drop another four for sure, huh |
Like let me tell the truth while I’m up in this booth |
Another nigga paid a nigga, didn’t have shit to do with Skub |
Me and Wuan was in Miami by our damn self |
Your ass wasn’t into this, I had to give them boys hell |
But I ain’t cry for no pity, I just got busy |
My family know just how the fuck I’m rockin', ain’t no bitch in me |
Never got stripped, you can ask the bitch that was with me |
Stood on my ten, you can ask my nigga Carlos Miller, huh |
And free that goofy boy out them cells |
Send his ass to heaven right after I give him hell |
Huh, been got equal, over-even, put it on Maquell |
Rest in peace to Frozonee and welcome home Lil Dell |
Rest in peace to O Block, Lil Block, and BT |
RIP to Lil Jaylen, Marciano, and Whites, BIP |
Iced up with the pipes at the studio, VIP |
Lil Blood go where I go, he don’t need ID, huh |
Huh, we don’t— listen |
We don’t, huh, party with the public, no way |
Let a nigga ho me in person, no way |
Go home, Roger, go away (Go home, Roger) |
Just lame-ass, lyin'-ass, cappin'-ass, rappin'-ass niggas |
Ain’t nobody ever performed no diss song while I was in the building |
When I pulled up, them niggas was not in the building |
I came a hundred deep, Skuba is not a civillian |
I was testin' my might, tryna see how they was feeling |
Fuck I need a dressing room for if I’m at the brib? |
Playin' with my name at the crib, he not tryna live |
Uh, I knew that and he know that |
Huh, ain’t even got room for no jokes, huh |
So tell me where the fuck some disrespect gon' go at |
Do the exact same thing if I had the chance to go back |
Huh, but I know it ain’t no time traveling machine |
I’m too old for that, huh, I’m too grown for that, huh |
I’m just sayin', I be right here where the poles at |
Pop an opp, pop a Perc', nah, not no Prozac, duh |
Soon as I get tired of a nigga, huh |
I don’t need no help, I’m gon' slide on that nigga, huh, huh |
Let me get him myself, huh |
I got old choppers sittin' on the shelf, huh |
Waitin' on they turn to make a pussy nigga melt, huh |
Heavyweight champ in my hood, got the belt |
I’m a 55 nigga, 5L, fuck 12, I do |