Real Deal Lyrics - Famous Dex

You know niggas talking about this man 

I'm bout to fuck 100, 000 right now 

Aye, dang, woah 

Fuck on your bitch and I leave 

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her 

Trap phone got a beeper 

They was talkin' to the people 

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood 

Pick a model in the hills 

Wrist froze, neck chill 

I got the hundreds, a real deal 

Related 

Match These Taylor Swift Songs to Her Ex-Boyfriends 

Love Stinks, So Here Are 15 Anti-Valentine's Day Songs 

Watch Will Smith perform to iconic song 'Prince Ali' from Aladdin 

Pick the model in the hills 

Percocet, pop a pill 

I got the hundreds, real deal 

The Rollie, the boogers is real chill 

Bitches bustin' out the gate 

You would take her on a date 

Cum on her face, make a mess 

More bullets for the tec 

Melrose with the O's 

Take a picture for some hoes 

Take a picture for some hoes 

I'm dabbin' around with a bankroll 

She'll fuck for Chanel 

You was talkin' to the 12 

I was playin' with a scale 

Baby ship it through the mail 

Photos 

Fuck on your bitch and I leave 

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her 

Trap phone got a beeper 

It was talkin' to the people 

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood 

Pick a model in the hills 

Wrist froze, neck chill 

I got the hundreds, a real deal 

I was playin' with a scale 

Fuck nigga gon' tell 

Dab sharp like nails 

Two guns, sonic tails 

Free block gang (?) 

Baby powder in the mail 

Finesse a nigga, I'm a player 

Then I move to the Himalayas 

Shell catches no shells 

Cookie gas in the L 

Fuckin' hoes on film 

In case the bitch wanna tell 

Try and lie and say I ate the bitch 

We done run her through the whole clique 

I don't really fuck with atheists 

Crosses on my neck, I'm bankin' it 

Beast mode, can't tame it 

Skippa got the chopper, aimin' it 

And we ain't shootin' at your legs 

And we ain't shootin' at the pancreas 

QC, the label dangerous 

I got a bitch, finna wrang a bitch 

Hold the squad down, anchor it 

And my money counter accurate 

Fuck on your bitch and I leave 

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her 

Trap phone got a beeper 

It was talkin' to the people 

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood 

Pick a model in the hills 

Wrist froze, neck chill 

I got the hundreds, a real deal 

I got the hundreds, a real deal 

All my diamonds on chill 

Real gold, ice grill 

I'm sipping lean, crack the seal 

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood 

I was broke, now I'm good 

Three grams in my wood 

Yeah I got it out the mud 

I'm ridin' round in this foreign 

All these bitches yeah they goin' 

All this money man comin' 

All these fuckin' blue hundreds 

And no I don't wear the Margielas 

And Yeezy's on, check the weather 

Two bitches flappin' like they feathers 

I'm ballin' hard like Mayweather, yeah 

Fuck on your bitch and I leave 

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her 

Trap phone got a beeper 

It was talkin' to the people 

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood 

Pick a model in the hills 

Wrist froze, neck chill 

I got the hundreds, a real deal 

I won't take a bitch up on a date 

Suckin' dick and then we fornicate 

Like a dirty pistol, she a throw away 

I'm goin' through it so I pour away 

My wrist is cold like a blizzard 

I think that bitch is a ho but I miss her 

Got it out the mud to a Fisker 

Young nigga been grindin' hard for a minute 

I'm a savage and a menace 

I be thuggin', fuck an image 

I got action for you actin' niggas 

Man the trenches, diamond dancin' nigga 

You a lil bitch, lil nigga 

I'm a big young rich nigga 

I sip out the seal my nigga 

One Actavis bottle your bills my nigga 

I'm whippin' still, I cook up gefilte fish 

Don't trust no ho cause a bitch gon' be a bitch 

Don't trust no nigga cause it's cool to be a snitch 

That nigga was talkin too much so it's cool to hit him with clips 

Fuck on your bitch and I leave 

Can't cuff her, I'ma mistreat her 

Trap phone got a beeper 

It was talkin' to the people 

Momma I'm movin' to Hollywood 

Pick a model in the hills 

Wrist froze, neck chill 

I got the hundreds, a real deal