What I Do

[Intro]

Uh, you know

We do this shit

We don't need no mothafuckin' compliments, man

Nigga get his ass shot, that shit we supposed to do cause we some real niggas

You follow me?

Beatin' niggas ass, fuckin' niggas hoes, ridin' rims

That's shit we supposed to do

Cause we some mothafuckin' real niggas

She a bad bitch, she supposed to fuck with some real niggas

[Chorus: Juvenile]

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

And all my bad bitches, they'll do me

I don't ask them if it's love cause they show me

And all my real niggas ride for me

If we beefin', all you bitches dying slowly

[Verse 1: Waka Flocka Flame]

All the real niggas, they fuckin' with me

Bad bitches, they fuckin' with me

In the VIP, with my strap on me

Blowin' gas, sippin' this cup of Remy

My shoes Fendi, my jeans (?)

My shirt Fendi, my buckle Fendi

She ain't no fun, crew can't hit her

I fuck and pass 'em, ain't cuffing any

Believe it or not, no fucking really

Hood nigga driving this fuckin' Bentley

Don't play no games with these lame niggas

Stomp a nigga out if he scuff my tennys

Every nigga round me 100

Leave a hunnid racks, they won't touch a penny

Bands on me, no twenties, fifties

Just hundreds, pockets they stuffed with centuries

They say Flocka, he a shooter

Damn right, that's what I'm good at nigga

You can try me if you want to

Get your shit pushed back, nigga

Half a ticket on my neck like a dope boy

Lookin' like I cooked that, nigga

I’m a real jack boy

Caught a nigga slippin' and I took that, nigga

[Chorus: Juvenile]

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

And all my bad bitches, they'll do me

I don't ask them if it's love cause they show me

And all my real niggas ride for me

If we beefin', all you bitches dying slowly

[Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame]

Check the lane, I'm flexin'

Real niggas only in my section

Ferragamo my belt buckle

Hand cuffs on me, no arresting

FN on my waist line

In case a fuck nigga wanna test me

Elm Street, I'm Piru

Real right nigga, no leftie

Ask around town, niggas know Flocka

I'm a real street nigga, name heavy

In the bushes, that chopper nigga

Dressed in all black like Wesley

I'm a rich nigga, for some red bottoms

She'll do anything, she bless me

Have a threesome with two bad bitches

I fucked her and her bestie

Only smoke gas, no reggie

If it ain't loud, don't pass it

Real street nigga with a bank account

200k in my matress

Won't ever change, always stay the same

Only thing that change is my address

With my status, can’t fuck with basic bitches

Can’t fuck with her if she average

Squad

[Chorus: Juvenile]

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)

And all my bad bitches, they'll do me

I don't ask them if it's love cause they show me

And all my real niggas ride for me

If we beefin', all you bitches dying slowly