These are the real Sopranos
Touchdown
Rolly face, bust down
They want us to fail, but we up now
Bucks piling up, goin' through the roof
Countin' dollars, son, you know that we in loot
Street scholars with gold up in the tooth
Five percent niggas showin' you the truth
Forty-five oliver, so lot of us boots, son
Ghost rider doin' donuts in the coop
I'm just sitting smoking on this haze
Chilling, scrolling up my page
Thinking how the OGs is rolling in they graves
How many more gon' get exposed?
How many souls are they gon' trade?
When no loyalties exchange, that's how soloists get made
I'm a hands-on kind of boss
So it totally explains how I put coco over flames before a logo on a chain
Still standing, only Lord knows what I overcame
Feds still circle my face when they take Polaroids again
$15,000 fit thuggin', hoppin' out of shit frontin'
I pull up to the barbecue like, holla at your big buzzin'
Double cross, always from a friend, saw that shit comin'
Ten million shoot you out the gym, we call that Chris Mullen
Better use them two ears, God gay for listening
Hope you guys paid attention, get your top scraped and blistered
The big league, just like Jackie, cause I do not play with niggas
And it do not make a difference, not even rock, paper, scissors
Butch
Touchdown
Rolly face, bust down
They want us to fail, but we up now
Bucks piling up, goin' through the roof
Countin' dollars, son, you know that we in loot
Street scholars with gold up in the tooth
Five percent niggas showin' you the truth
Forty-five oliver, so lot of us boots, son
Ghost rider doin' donuts in the coop
Stuffin' dough in the full safe, sip bottles that's half empty
Pullin' work out the pot, had to tap on the glass gently
Sometimes I miss it
Hit me out
Hit me out
This rap shit get mad mixing
How though?
It's some way attached to cash if they act freely
Uh, I really done
Grown man business by age 21
Reasons I should paint the city?
I had too many ones
Flow been silly since Biggie was crackin' Philly blunts
You feel me?
Money talks and y'all niggas won't give a penny up
Who the boss man?
Who win a million up off a signature?
And I been feelin' much like a villain since I been killin' your favorite rappers
Your fibula crackin' if it don't been enough
When I hit that scorpion leg lock, the Kevorkian death shot
I'm gettin' bored while the fans watch
I brought a lord to a dead block
Then on to the next spot
Niggas can't fuck with me, niggas butch
Touchdown
Rolly face, bust down
They want us to fail, but we up now
Bucks piling up, goin' through the roof
Countin' dollars, son, you know that we in loot
Street scholars with gold up in the tooth
Five percent niggas showin' you the truth
Forty-five oliver, so lot of us boots, son
Ghost rider doin' donuts in the coop
