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j-real - stephen curry lyrics

[chorus: montana of 300]
yeah, the game foul and the ref dirty
keep the green on me like a jets jersey
tell a opposition i ain’t never worried
keep the 30 on me like i’m stephen curry
30 on me like i’m stephen curry
30 on me like i’m stephen curry
tell a opposition i ain’t never worried
keep the 30 on me like i’m stephen curry
30 on me like i’m stephen curry
30 on me like i’m stephen curry
yeah the game foul and the ref dirty
keep the 30 on me like i’m stephen curry

[verse 1: j real]
don’t come around my block n-gga
knowing d-mn well we don’t rock wit ya
30’s off in these glocks n-gga
squeeze that b-tch it don’t stop n-gga
i don’t pop, n-gga, i pop n-ggas
if he riding with ya, he gon die with ya
pull up right beside n-ggas
and let the whole clip ride n-gga
blowing sh-t, i go broke in sh-t
then i’m poking sh-t doors get kicked
223 with a 50 clip
it take two hands to even hold the b-tch
f-ck n-ggas i can’t trust them
did once and i learned my lesson
crossed the n-gga like an intersection
had to pick his -ss like an interception
hit his -ss with that smith & wesson
murder sh-t, i think i got a fetish
when i shoot that gun and i see that blood
everybody dead so ain’t n0body tellin’
they like there he go, yeah here i am
not too long ago, i was in the can
now i’m fly as peter pan
and these b-tches wanna kick it like jackie chan
fge b-tch we the clan
[?] that ring ring
your b-tch blue like a pepsi can
and i’m a pimp n-gga, i ain’t never payin’

[verse 2: j real]
don’t know a misdemeanor only cl-ss x
30 shots when i blast tecs
hop up outta that aztec
counting bodies like i’m mad max
i’m in the windy city brought some k!llers with me
b-tches f-ckin for a fifth of remy
that’s why i can never love a ho
kick her out before she get comfortable
i’m j real i won’t lack, opps know that i’m on that
meet a n-gga at his doormat
run up on him let the pole clap
momma told me motherf-ckers phony
don’t trust a n-gga, far as you can throw him
f-ck the feds they trying to slam my bro
these n-ggas hating on me, i don’t even know ’em
f-ck i need to come back for
got mine, hope you got yours
40 cal, that’s my boy
send a n-gga to the top floor
like boom b-tch n-gga take this
remember jackie and i had to hold a clip
but the motherf-ckers still [?] spit
so i ain’t give a f-ck, i was drilling b-tch

- j real lyrics

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