Big Meech Era

[Intro] Yeah I-I think I may have to take it back to like, like 10 years ago, you know? The Big Meech Era, you feel me? Real, real motivation for a street nigga Real, real motivation for a street nigga, ugh [Verse 1] Pull up in all color Ferraris, bitches in tiaras Gettin' head while I'm steering Everybody else starving, everybody else staring Shawty got the McLaren and I had the seven Pulled up at the compound, clothes smellin' like gunpowder (boom) Salute all the real niggas and real bitches that got they own boss I was snappin' before Fabo, my raps come with a halo Went out with Jeezy, we spent pesos like J-bo Took E’s to the Twenty Grande He got a pistol on him and twenty grand A couple things I ain't glorifying is the kids dying and the mommas dying (Scarface) Everybody need to calm down Stand right by your homie's side Gunshots in this motherfucker turn this bitch into a homie-side (yeah) [Chorus] Over a million sold they say I'm crossin' over Oh yeah, the club packed, I should’ve brought a rubber My whole body inked, my family hardly know me You know I put that work in just to get a Rollie (I did) Big Meech era, Japanese Dinner Trap in these denim (damn) Ain't stuntin' these women (naaa) Wood grain steering wheel, I might get a splinter If this a flexing contest I think we found a winner [Interlude] Put this shit down, that shit still burnin', I can smell that moon rock I got to tell you how that shit started (real real motivation for a street nigga) (real, real, real, real, real, real, real) [Verse 2] Trapping off the court, on the back porch (I did) Had that pack ordered, we was backed up (we was nigga!) That's that good shit, that’s that hood shit (we hood) You a cute bitch, and your crew thick (I like) Got a chopper on me the size of pool stick (this long) With a Blue DaVinci, dog food bricks (Heroin) Snowman on repeat, rest in peace, Nando I see Jigg in here I see Quazy too When brawl wit'you we send them bottles through We send the marters through, I'm on the Carter 2 Like Tyrese was on the Marta, too They start calling too, startin' falling through Got them chickens boy, like a barbecue (tell em) Talk to lame niggas something we hardly do I sip the PJ bottle I rock the AP on them. (okay) I think my rollie harder this an AG party [Chorus] Over a million sold they say I'm crossin' over Oh yeah, the club packed, I should’ve brought a rubber My whole body inked, family hardly know me You know I put that work in just to get a Rollie Big Meech era, Japanese Dinner Trap in these denim Trap in these denim Ain't stuntin' these women Wood grain steering wheel, I might get a splinter If this a flexing contest I think we found a winner [Outro] I think we found a winner Uh-oh, flexing contest I think we found a winner Pull up in some shorts, middle of December Flex, ooh