G Herbo — Yall Dont Really Hear Me

Ion fuck with no bitch niggas No snitch niggas, no brick niggas No Limit Gang get rich nigga That temple mac gon' flip niggas Got real rugers got real shooters Them hollow tips dont miss nigga If you outside when them bullets flyin Then you gon' get hit nigga You know I demand bucks Stick up, hands up Rounds clap from the hot shit When the Glock spit pick ya mans up Got bail money, no handcuffs Mossberg leave his mans slumped Let the shottie bust til his body bust Then beat his body up with the cans up Like when lil bruce hit Rotti up Free lil hitta tear Audi up 87th wanna rock with us 83rd wanna copy us But everybody ain't real niggas So 83rd, they the sloppy us But anyways this shit real It a brick kill when you see steel Free G Gill and we WILL My dope rolled like 3 pills 3 shots fired and that's 3 kills Show no mercy when you see field That's real rap, on 79th them real traps In the dip with them real gats I ain't talkin bout no lil gats That ning ding like Lil Shaq Like old bitches, we will clap Run up on him with the steel mac These niggas caps get peeled back Murder one on my 5th track Ima boss, I ripped that Caucasian I whip that Thats why my wrist flex White remy, I sip that 9 got me mix matched My lift weights got kickback Bitch niggas dont get that Chit chat get a bitch wacked Get low after that click clack Got clips filled with them tic tacs And .44's with them 6 packs Listen, yeah im riding round with that 50 High points in that semi Let off 4 bricks from the four fifth Leave a ho stiff like dickies Yeah its black mob, get benchpressed Like "hey man, see the light man?" Roll up on him in a white van Blowin shells out like sprite cans And it's Ls over them fuck niggas The sweet route, I can't go Every cent in my payroll I made that for Fazo! And they must know Cash coming it must go That money come by the bus flow And I ain't got no trust fund, I trust none Its a cold war and my luck done When it's war time I trust guns I ain't gotta lie No fear in me cuz i gotta die And im good ma, you ain't gotta cry Cuz im posted up with them thugs niggas Talkin like a drug dealer It ain't how you raised me That street shit just changed me Had to grow up and be a real nigga 16 tryna kill niggas Got problems gon' deal with em Drop whoever step to me Making niggas leave they hood Call they ass some refugees EBK right next to me Essex on the left of me And I know that talk is cheap, so money got the best of me And i'll never back down, so courage got the rest of me Hustle till the death of me Money on mind, Lil herbie on that grind So im posted on the 8 with a 30 in my 9 Put a nigga on his ass if he come across the line Let his mans meet the nickle if he tryna drop a dime Make a nigga freeze up like my hamma stoppin time Really though Run up on his block with the mask, Rey Mysterio Mac shots rip a nigga up now he cheerio Back to the block banging harder than a stereo I told them I was gettin on, but I dont think they hear me though