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Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
D. Dixon
D. Dixon
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Othello
Othello
Producer

Lyrics

These Niggas ain't Built Like Us My Niggas take risks and Make Moves on the Daily Glizzy don't come wit a Safety Streets they been feeling me lately These Niggas Be Cappin in all of they Rappin But all of they Bitches is Basic You Hate that a real Nigga made it Don't like it my nigga then spray me These Niggas ain't Built Like Us My Niggas take risks and Make Moves on the Daily Glizzy don't come wit a Safety Streets they been feeling me lately These Niggas Be Cappin in all of they Rappin But all of they Bitches is Basic You Hate that a real Nigga made it Don't like it my nigga then spray me We poppin at Niggas Straight outta the gate Gun come from Italy, Weed From the Bay I'm No Producer But Feel Lex Luger The Way that A Nigga Be Selling the Bass Dripping all these Flavors in ya face Paper chasin like I'm in a Race Rappin Til I'm Ridin in a Wraith Bank Deposit walk me to the Safe Wakin Up to hunnit texts a day Different numbers saved under Bae Shipping weight and move it ándele Baby Drac in Case You Wanna Play Crushin Xan's down on a plate Best bombs coming Out the A Fingers sticky cappin up the H 12 Got Me Watching I Say Real niggas don't need Niggas Just a big bag, and a bigger pistol Bitch I'm in the yo, geekin off the Skittles I'm a Rich Nigga Still Sellin Nickels Came a long way From sleepin in the Honda Now my Bitch wantin Beni And Hana Problem solver when It come to the drama Keepin The Lamma, chasin these commas Freshest Nigga in the Tri State Dont hit my Line if you ain't buyin weight Bitch we sell it all Got the hard and soft Got the Aderall and the shake and bake And that's all gas, never knew a brake I ain't goin Back to when my Belly ached Talkin 2010 I ain't have a Place Nigga dead stressing one On the way Now I look around, see my kids face Got me thanking God, my lil niggas straight When I think about it, wipe a Tear Away Ask the Most High wipe the Fear Away In the Photoshoot put the blick away Cus the Stainless pop like a Rubber Band Keep a couple shooters on the Payroll But the Nine Tucked in my WaistBand And that's Real
Writer(s): D Dixon Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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