(KE on the Track)
[Scotty ATL:] Bob what up man?
[B.o.B:] What's up fool?
[Scotty ATL:] These niggas out here hustlin' for a [?]
[Scotty ATL:] You know I don't really fuck with these niggas right?
[B.o.B:] Fuck 'em
[B.o.B:] Talk' to em [x3]
[Scotty ATL:] Real nigga ain't never for the hustle for the [?]
[Scotty ATL:] Real nigga ATL
[Scotty ATL:]
Two three times had to fall on my face
And you supposed to be a nigga I can trust
You ain't never pulled at a real nigga fall I recall
You just schemin' on the niggas in your own in the circle you were
Lying on the internet, putting nigga lame
Talking real shit niggas ain't real
You just trying to [?] nigga I can feel
Told 'em I ain't fucking with these niggas I'mma focus on my own shit
Cool Club for life, had the [?] on
Kanye, getting fucked by all that
Finna turn like car keys (turn up), with a
Bad bitch, and a cup full of Cognac
[?] this a carjack, I be
Ridin' like a motherfucking [?] valet
With the Swiss full of [?], yeah I
Need that, these niggas on my last nerve
Who you trying to impress, you be trickin' [?]
Yeah niggas ain't ball like
We can can see it on your IG, you be
Tryin' too hard you don't even live your own life
Getting line like a [?], take over time
Give me head like MJ
Post a clip on OJ
R.I.P my nigga OJ, they ain't know
[Hook:]
Man I don't really fuck with these niggas
Man I don't really fuck with these niggas
I don't really fuck with these niggas I don't
Fuck with these niggas, man I don't really
Fuck with these niggas
Man I don't really fuck with these niggas
I don't really fuck with these niggas i don't
Fuck with these nigass, man I don't really
Fuck with these niggas
[Scotty ATL:]
Show a nigga love he get shitted on (Shitted on)
Man Hollywood, now I ball like fuck 'em
Me and cut the tees out the top of the colored [?]
See me they can see me hold a mothefucking [?]
XXL even complex, no radio
On tour getting good dough
Meeting tightwads, I don't know about the pudding but
They don't know about hood though
Give a foot long, I'm just tryin' to get the long bread
Get some ass out my [?]
In the [?], chasing paper like a maniac
Man we struggle way too long
Want a lambo, just to ride wanna feel like
Ace [?] on a good park
And the good lord, help me blow up help me getting rich
Help me make it real real far
Know just one thing, niggas act like they wanna see
They just wanna see take outs
Never for them, so I grind I ain't letting off
I ain't taking no days off
We were cool with them, but they were hating I can feel it
They were hating I can feel it
I'mma make 'em look bad, jealous heart at that boy
Watch a real nigga kill it
[Hook]
Man I feel like fuck these niggas
I ain't really feeling near one of these niggas
I'm worldwide boy you just a one street nigga
In my beat ballin' Barry Bond league hitters
I ain't got I ain't got no handout for these niggas
But lyrically I'mma make examples out of niggas
They gon' fuck around and put Atlanta out a nigga
You ain't got to tell I whip the lambo out on niggas
Yeah catch heat make a camel out of niggas
They gon' swear they got the Rambo out the ghetto
What the fuck you fantasize a nigga
It ain't real beef unless they pullin' ammo out of niggas
How can niggas even think they on my level (On my level)
When they're too many niggas thinking on my level (All over)
Take a minute nigga think of something clever
If it's numbers to this shit I"m going meta
I won't say I'm a vet, just somewhere between the best
And ahead of the rest, next level finesse
Heavy metal possessed
Bullshit to my right, pool pit to my left
That ain't neither here nor there, nevertheless
Just tell your friend bring a lighter and song
Both my eyes low like Cheech and Chong
Bobby Ray Bands in your camera phone
If I ain't on your TV boy you got the channel wrong
[Hook]
[Scotty ATL:]
Yeah what it do man it's your boy Scotty ATL man checkin' in one time, you know what I'm sayin'? Man shout out to niggas out there geting the motherfuckin' money man you know? Y'all niggas say No Jan-re, we say No Genre, you feel me? Where we from that A-Town and you know what I'm talkin' 'bout so we just talk like that. No Genre nigga not No Jan-re. Get that shit right, fool. Scotty ATL Cool Club, what's happening? Turn up in this bitch man, leggo
Bobby Ray Simmons Jr., known professionally as B.o.B, is an American rapper, singer, songwriter, and record producer. Raised in Decatur, Georgia, Simmons signed with record producer Jim Jonsin's Rebel Rock Entertainment in 2006. Two years later, he signed a joint venture recording contract with fellow Georgia rapper T.I.'s Grand Hustle Records, an imprint of Atlantic Records. Following his major-label deal, Simmons quickly achieved commercial success when his 2009 single, "Nothin' on You", topped the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 chart and received three nominations—Record of the Year, Best Rap Song, and Best Rap/Sung Collaboration—at the 53rd Grammy Awards.
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