Stay True (feat. 60 Second Assassin)

Oh yeah, motherfucker
It's real
Y'all niggas hold your guns
Throw your guns down, put 'em down
Yo, we in the fields with heat
You fake niggas eat kid meals to meat
We street referees, we rock
Jean jackets, thick shirts over turtlenecks
Certified doctors in hoods'll steal all your techs
But wait, roll cameras, Babyface money blowing like beach nut
Call off the mutts, it's me again
Ghost, your host this evening
(Ladies and gents I'd like to thank you all for comin' out tonight)
Tucks tight, all sharp, light up a bark, let's mingle
Fetch me a Rémy Martin on Diamonds
Flair-laded Gucci joints, I never wore
I might give 'em to my brother-in-law
Fitzpatrick, ribs battered, worth more than Egyptian marrows
Borrow the God jewels, Gucci goggles
That's how the God do, Motown twenty-five
My office like Smokey's voice, little moist, but choice
We guzzle Dom's, smoke the scratchy throats
Live on the edge, bracelets, shades and classy coats
Jungle in the club, we play Colombo
Frost eat a snowman, frozen as the milky way
Ice on the floor, El-Producto in the sleeve
In the seam of his mink, he said he don't drink
Think before he talked, he walked like he ordered
Champ room down in Vegas, vending machines
I sip Alize' compliments of E&J
The streets is rough out here
Crack game came and had its years
What is a man to do? (Brother)
(Stay true, stay true)
The streets is rough out here
Crack game came and had its years
What is a man to do? (Brother)
(Stay true, stay true)