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letra de real rap - eastside reup

[verse 1: g.t.]
real rap (real rap), all facts (all facts)
dope spots got me pullin’ gucci off my back (ayy, ayy, ayy)
dice game every day, n-gga, bet it, bet
fall through the club, let her sit her p-ssy on my lap
i want a wraith, i want a jet
i don’t want you around, you don’t run up a check
flew through the bag, gon’ hit the set
new louis bag with the checks, that ain’t get her wet
yeah, runnin’ through the dope like it’s ’86
the clio fell in love with that grape sh-t
hit the bay wrong way, no delay, b-tch (no delay)
in 63 with tint, me and philthy rich
you gotta watch these n-ggas, they switch quick (uh-huh)
if they ain’t talkin’ ’bout no cake, they ain’t talkin’ sh-t
it’s crazy i’ll get paid just to talk sh-t
n-ggas say they got bricks, barely got zips
how you rap about some sh-t that you don’t do?
i guess n-ggas really rapping over pro tools
i put the work back together with my blow tools
could step on it, but i ain’t got on my blow shoes
it’s real raw, n-gga, not no fentanyl
tired of gettin’ f-cked over? then give me a call
bro packed them n-ggas down, they might be the law
and it’s a thousand motherf-ckers waitin’ on me to fall
[verse 2: eastside reup & peezy]
ayy, this real rap, n-gga, no lie
that dog get you anything that you wanna buy
wrap ’em up and send ’em out, we let birds fly
view of the town, yeah, the crib got a bird’s-eye
how these n-ggas rappin’ sh-t that they don’t do?
i was that n-gga walkin’ ’round with forty in my shoes
left pocket full of dubs, right all blues
get to that money, we ain’t worried ’bout what y’all do (naw, naw)
[?] fence in wheat timbs, i’m in grind mode
run to that chicken, i can count it with my eyes closed
if you ain’t in it for the money, what you grind for?
i’m up early workin’ in a whole ‘nother timezone (ayy)
n-gga

[verse 3: peezy]
this that real rap, n-gga, no lie
go’n put it on the scale and make sure it’s right (add it up)
jeans costed me a band, ho, i know they tight
was on collins in a wraith when they was on they bikes
raf simons on my feet, sippin’ on that muddy (drank)
b-tches cost me five hundred even though they ugly
at the gamblin’ house shootin’ even though they cuttin’
best friends with the shooters, if i call, they coming (yeah)
caught the cases, stood tall, i ain’t let it break me (f-ck naw)
hit me when they touch down, to let me know they made it (okay)
still show them n-ggas love even though they hate me (f-ck it)
r.i.p. my n-gga mox, and free my n-gga 80’s (free him)

- eastside reup

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