Hook- Word on the streetz is they saying they ain't feeling me, should I hang it up or just dumb it down some lyrically, fuck dem niggas, and fuck dem bitches, if my real can't feel, then let me spit fictitious,

Bout how I'm strait drug dealing, how I'm big body whipping, how I only pull dimes knowing that fives all I'm hitting, I guess to get in this business, I need to change my position, throw an audible on da track just to get'em listen,

Verse 1- They just wanna head bob, what the hell is my prob, why the fuck am I spitting, when all they wanting slob, in a selfish minaj, me myself and my balls, cause while I'm feeling myself, nobody else gets involved, I guess I'm doing it wrong, I guess they doing it right, I hang with niggas I guess my noose ain't tight, that's why my shit ain't hitting, and they cream of crop, niggas illegal spitting, when they use to be cops, but we feeling that, yeah we feeling that, let me talk bout dope, but I dealing that, indulge in this liquor, not bottle a pitcher and middle finger the scriptures that don't fit my life description, I'm on some other shit nigga, but I don't guess that they get it, am i pole vaulting they heads or are they limbo-ing my lyrics, real Casper to real niggas, cause real niggas can't feel it, must've been Casper since day 1, cause "real niggas" don't feel'em,

Hook- Word on the streetz is they saying they ain't feeling me, should I hang it up or just dumb it down some lyrically, fuck dem niggas, and fuck dem bitches, if my real can't feel, then let me spit fictitious,

Bout how I'm strait drug dealing, how I'm big body whipping, how I only pull dimes knowing that fives all I'm hitting, I guess to get in this business, I need to change my position, throw an audible on da track just to get'em listen,

Verse 2-Attention! No love for no real flows too busy wit dildos or they sell souls to pack bill folds they skills low but they plugged in, just enough to sell a trick a dream, she on the beat when she Bob on D, got long hair call it bob and weave, and watch'em Bob and weave like my shit ain't, hitting, reality you niggas can't buck with me, 3 dollar nigga turn buck 50, just business niggas no love in me, some people hate some loving me, been about a year bringing oven heat, obviously ought to be braille but that's hard to see

Hook- Word on the streetz is they saying they ain't feeling me, should I hang it up or just dumb it down some lyrically, fuck dem niggas, and fuck dem bitches, if my real can't feel, then let me spit fictitious,

Bout how I'm strait drug dealing, how I'm big body whipping, how I only pull dimes knowing that fives all I'm hitting, I guess to get in this business, I need to change my position, throw an audible on da track just to get'em listen,