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letra de real talk - quandogg

(intro)

yeah, you know what the f-ck goin’ on, ayy

(quandogg) verse#1

ayy, big bands entertainment, that’s a label we don’t sign with rats
i see a lot of haters want me dead because i got the strap
if you want me on your song, you gotta pay me fast
heard you got b-tched back at high school, man, we don’t f-ck with that
middle fingers to that boy l-, man, he’s a famous rap
i’m from the south with n-ggas, got ars with clips and mags
4-5 to your dome, ah man, now his brain splattered
chopper with a scope, finna to pop you like a tic-tac
free my cousin willie in that jam, i want my n-gga back
they tryna take my style, you know i gotta break it back
that pillow talkin’ to the hoes like some rats
if you talkin’ all that smack, glock 40 to your back
they don’t call me lil jon, i will make this pistol snap
all this money on my head, man, y’all better get that
f-ck a chit-chat, all you heard is cl!ck-clack
heard it on my last song, i customized a sigmag
i done took so many hoes, you can’t get your b-tch back
heard you tryna k!ll yourself, cause you can’t get your bl!ck back
stop that cryin’ on that live, talk about you spinnin’ back
you don’t aim for the chest, this choppa hit yo fitted cap
yeah, my first time rappin’, i was six, i knew i was the best
heard you workin’ with the cops, man, i knew you was a rat
had to switch this flow up because y’all knew that i ain’t gon’ snap
i was down on my knuckles, i had to take away the past
like i said, ain’t n0body f-ckin’ with me, that’s the fact
i can’t trust n0body, the reason why i got the strap
i’m a southside baby, y’all gotta show me some respect
silverstone with the tecs, smokin’ crud, i can’t pass
folks say he wanna pack, you know i had a tax his ass
and still, free my baby will, motherf-cker feds
freestyle on the dome, i don’t even need a pad
beat your ass up with these hands, i don’t even need a mac
five shots to his back, now he is a godd-mn past
like i’m gucci in 06, you can’t come to the trap
like, for real, n-gga, you can’t come to the trap, n-gga
if you speakin’ on the dead, we gon’ smoke you like a pack
got a freaky little b-tch, and you know she make a clap
hit her once, she gon’ wake back up, countin’ his cash
like tupac, we hit him up, no mj, we do you bad
just got a glock .23, just shot a whole 30, d-mn
my first time doin’ the fraud, the feds was on my ass
don’t look at me, look at yourself, p-ssy boy, get you a bag
i’ll hit your ass with the switch just like your motherf-ckin’ dad
we put a hole in his body, now he in the godd-mn casket
i’m still that 517 n-gga, still ridin’ around with the ratchet
and i got this mac, make you disappear like some magic
heard he got shot six times, p-ssy boy, you ain’t no savage
where i’m from, they gon’ catch you slippin’ in that traffic
and you don’t wanna beef with the quan, get you some cabbage
shot him down, stars up in his head, now he patrick, n-gga
p-ssy
(bridge)

yeah, big lay on this b-tch, not the little one
y’all, you already know what the f-ck goin’ on

(ladybug) verse#2

they wanna see me, i be talkin’ on the beat but they ain’t hear me
tryna use me for the clout now i’ma make a n-gga feel me
big lay, too fine, make a n-gga wanna eat me
met a n-gga who be punchin’, told that n-gga come and teach me
can’t let any n-gga f-ck, but he can tease me
can’t let a light-skinned n-gga f-ck, they too easy
big lay, make a n-gga mama wanna meet me
b-tch, we gon’ stomp, not step hoes goofy
thinkin’ i’ma f-ck for some money, made him lose me
body too slim, that’s what made your n-gga choose me
been ridin’ with the same b-tches, not a groupie
b-tches ran through, all these b-tches lookin’ stupid
big head hoes got a brain, better use it
b-tch got some legs on her body, make her use them

(quandogg) verse#3

like a little kid, we run off with your scooter
i’m a real boy, i don’t entertain these goofies
gotta 100 clips, 100 scenes, let’s make a movie
got your thot all up on my phone, she wanna do me
countin’ green like i’m sh-ggy, but this ain’t no scooby
3.5 in the wood, got me actin’ woozy
i’m a real n-gga for life, i don’t even got a cap
30 shots to his back, now he lookin’ like a rat
i got 32’s in this glock but i ain’t talkin’ shaq
i’m from the south side, where them n-ggas got them straps
they want that old quan back, but they ain’t gettin’ that
this how long i been rappin’, finna make me lose my breath
now you dead up on the road, postin bl!cks up on your snap
i’m still quan & ruthless, n-gga, ain’t no cap on that

- quandogg

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