5 Mississippi (feat. Boldy James)

Real Bad Man

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    Hahahahaha
    Where we at?
    Jackson, LAX
    Blockworks, let's get it

    Sliding with a fifty, Van Dykin' with my sissy
    Sippin' dirty Sprite, pouring out the pint until I'm pissy
    Count to five Mississippi, .30 parkin', I'm outside with a stiffy
    Shit, I might just go live with a bricky
    Me and Five in that Bentley with matching master pieces
    Got me plottin' on the richy, number five come with a fifty
    Know these niggas wanna rob me, wanna stick me
    Mad at me 'cause all their bitches wanna slop me, wanna lick me
    That'll be the day we hand out expiration dates, I hate it had to be that way
    But be it as it may, you know it had to happen either way
    Demon child, lot of bad habits and some evil traits
    Mini-Drac, fully-automatic, let it eat his face

    Them niggas' hoods you hiding in you thought was safe?
    You tell 'em everything else, why you ain't tell 'em that you caught a case?
    Wish you'd seen the look in his eyes when he saw my face
    Knowing that I know what's going on, that's what you call a snake
    I gotta thank God for keep cuttin' me all these breaks
    On my last strike, ain't even got another law to break
    Heard they caught him with the bag and he talked to Jake
    Now all these niggas get mad, wanna fight, should've fought his case

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    These niggas super flawed
    Me and DD moved the raw, got Titi sniffing through a straw
    Jackie bangin' needles, uncle Eddie, he was smackin' glass
    But he smoking proper, he so shy that he can't catch a drag
    Half a slab, bleed a nigga block just like a maxi pad
    Action packed, brodie cut shit down just like a battle axe
    Nigga drop my name, he gettin' mowed, run and title that
    Caught two bricks of cocaine, three bricks of blow, that's a travel pack
    Used to work the grave shift, boiling mayonnaise on me
    All these band-aids on me, that's a first-aid kit
    Niggas know we purge and we grave dig
    Parking them sixes in a row like a class of first grade kids

    Them niggas' hoods you hiding in you thought was safe?
    You tell 'em everything else, why you ain't tell 'em that you caught a case?
    Wish you'd seen the look in his eyes when he saw my face
    Knowing that I know what's going on, that's what you call a snake
    I gotta thank God for keep cuttin' me all these breaks
    On my last strike, ain't even got another law to break
    Heard they caught him with the bag and he talked to Jake
    Now all these niggas get mad, wanna fight, should've fought his case

    Hahahahaha

    Song details

    Composition: Boldy James and Real Bad Man

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