"Xxxxl" lyrics

(Yo, are y'all with the Lunch Crew Company?)
New Dallas with the new Flint
5K, I ain't trickin', that's my boo rent
Rap money good, I was just coppin' two bricks
Nigga don't take care of his kids, he a true bitch (Y'ello)

I just spent like eight bands on a 'fit (Yeah)
Only wear this bitch once, but might re-rock the kicks (Woo)
You ain't even gotta check, we already on the list
And we walkin' straight through, security ain't touchin' shit (Y'ello)
We left his friends dead, who got more street cred?
Foreign whip off the lot, this ain't no lease cred (Yeah)
One, two, three black trucks in the street, yeah (No)
Baby, I'm that nigga, it ain't even gotta be said

Black trucks, sticked up, two hundred thou' cash (Yup)
Ask me where I get my name from, I sold a lot of grass (Wow)
All this dog shit on me, bitch, I got a rash (Y'ello)
And when your bitch look like money, you don't gotta brag (No)
I done done so much dirt, I had to call the reverend
I'm paranoid from my past, I think the walls tellin' (Think the walls tellin')
Doggy went foul, so I sent his ass to dog heaven (No)
Three hundred pounds of 'za, I'll get it gone in all sevens (Y'ello)
I need every cent, my baby need that G-Wagen
Mama need a new house, my hustle is my greatest gift (Woo)
Real stand-up nigga, bitch, I'm heaven-sent (Yeah)
Before I sell my mans out, I'll sell a brick

I just spent like eight bands on a 'fit
Only wear this bitch once, but might re-rock the kicks (Woo)
You ain't even gotta check, we already on the list
And we walkin' straight through, security ain't touchin' shit (Y'ello)
We left his friends dead, who got more street cred?
Foreign whip off the lot, this ain't no lease cred (Yeah)
One, two, three black trucks in the street, yeah (No)
Baby, I'm that nigga, it ain't even gotta be said

New D, nigga, I'm fuckin' around with Flint
I just left BGs, I just paid some ho's rent
If I walk outside with it, shit, it's probably spent
Havin' motion in real life, name a ho there that ain't went, nigga
All I talk is money, go and get you some
Nigga really come from crumbs, countin' up, done hurt my thumb
Niggas really out here Amir Junior, might as well be my son
Free the guys, they'd be right here with me if they had a bond
Countin' up in the booth right now, they know I like to pop it
I can't kick it with these niggas, these niggas hoes and they gon' gossip
I'ma count it neat and stack it neat, I don't like shit sloppy
Pill phone ringin', promotors callin', that's some more profit (That's some more profit)

I just spent like eight bands on a 'fit
Only wear this bitch once, but might re-rock the kicks (Woo)
You ain't even gotta check, we already on the list
And we walkin' straight through, security ain't touchin' shit (Y'ello)
We left his friends dead, who got more street cred?
Foreign whip off the lot, this ain't no lease cred (Yeah)
One, two, three black trucks in the street, yeah (No)
Baby, I'm that nigga, it ain't even gotta be said

Ridin' Cybertruck, BP through the V
Put that pussy on me, baby, come put me to sleep
Ain't gon' lie, I been stressin', ain't seen granny in some weeks
Got like twenty-five opps tryna put me on a tee, damn

Street nigga, real street nigga
Baby, I'm a real street nigga, real street nigga
Real street nigga, real street nigga
Baby, I'm a real street nigga, real street nigga