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pouya & boobie lootaveli - real street migo lyrics

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[chorus]
i’m a street migo, wrap them babies in the plastic
i be totin’ on some tools bigger than jur-ssic
now my old homie hate me ’cause i made it happen
thought that he would want me in a wraith, not a casket
man this life will teach you things that you wouldn’t imagine
how you say that he your dog, but he went to ratting?
we be moving like a marching band when we clapping
got a .40 with the nuts, if you want your -ss kissed

[verse 1: b–bie lootaveli]
b-tch it’s trap shit is easy, why you doing average?
my lil zose up the road swiping, doin’ damage
they gon take a trip across the tracks for the package
tryna sell out all these shows, b-tch i want that backend
what that thing all down your back, girl is that your baggage?
i love when she get to clapping it, i gets to rattlin’
pull up on you like “whats happening b-tch” ain’t got no manners
hit you with some numbers, its not adding up, then i’m subtracting b-tch
a lot up on my plate today, i’m doing numbers ho
if you ain’t make one play today, then what you doing ho?
you know i be with the shits so what we moving ho?
i’m a real street migo, i be glidin’ through the room

[chorus]
i’m a street migo, wrap them babies in the plastic
i be totin’ on some tools bigger than jur-ssic
now my old homie hate me ’cause i made it happen
thought that he want me in a wraith, not a casket
man this life will teach you things that you wouldn’t imagine
how you say that he your dog, but he went to ratting?
we be moving like a marching band when we clapping
got a .40 with the nuts, if you want your -ss kissed

[verse 2: pouya]
i want smoke, i want smoke, i want bullets in my head
let me go, let me go, i guess i’m better off for dead
this life i’m living ain’t right
i should of stayed in school instead of dropping out
sitting on the couch, with a cigarette in my mouth
but if i did that, i would be broke
sitting in the honda civic with that broken taillight and a ugly ho
but now they love me, now i’m knocking them down like dominoes
drivin’ to chop you up, and put your finger in a envelope
lil ho, why you wanna play me like a b-tch?
run around with my style how you know you not authentic with it
admit it, get out of your feelings, i’ve been in the game for a minute
show some respect to the legacy
been waiting for somebody to k!ll me
to show me you love me, yuh

[chorus]
i’m a street migo, wrap them babies in the plastic
i be totin’ on some tools bigger than jur-ssic
now my old homie hate me ’cause i made it happen
thought that he would want me in a wraith, not a casket
man this life will teach you things that you wouldn’t imagine
how you say that he your dog, but he went to ratting?
we be moving like a marching band when we clapping
got a .40 with the nuts, if you want your -ss kissed



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