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real mccoy - look at me now lyrics

[hook]
bright thing on my hand saying (look at me)
i got your girl doing a handstand (look at me)
cop them 28-inch birdman’s (check out me)
y’all dues money to ya
bright thing on my hand saying (look at me)
i got your girl doing a handstand (look at me)
cop them 28-inch birdman’s (check out me)
big thighs with brown-eyes

[verse 1]
it’s lil weezy for real
only cash money hot boy that stood still
i got a good deal
i’m from a trill hood
i smoke real good
slide on them skinnies in the bike with an ill hood
pipes, rally stripes and fog lights
t-shirt white, three stripes with all ice
what that boy name
birdman junior, huh
fool was smile but five is so wild
i can smoke a green mile
got a chrome need a rolls shined up for you baby
bling-blow, i rock a throwback jordan 23
rolling on hot 23’s
tote a big glock 23
you’re looking at the seventeen ward of new orleans
my block living me
i want you to look hard at some easy money
stop playing this is weezy company
uh-huh

[hook]

[verse 2]
i’m the son of cash money
the fodd of the squad
and baby bout to buy me a house in the sky
cuz i’m so fly
when my feet touch the ground sometimes i gotta ask myself why
coupe kinda wide but i move sorta quick
looking for my roof where it went
mink on the floor big shoes on the bed
windows are the tint more wood than a bench
working in the hood more green than the grinch
please don’t play cuz i’m connected like sprint
ladies on the tray popping up the back-end
peppermint leather with a feather in my brim
it’s lil weezy
sucking on my wrist real breezy
and this is what i say when you see me
look, and leave your broad at home she get took
cuz i’m a player hold the game by the book

[hook]

[verse 3]
some call me weezy
but hoes holla look at lil wayne
in that booger-green lay like should’ve been mace
sweet, do speak when i should’ve put trays
forget it i’ma slam it on bubba-bubba-blaze
so move over what you say shortie
we could do rent p-ssy
normally i wouldn’t but beating through the texas
and beating went to the a
eat with desert fey
but yeah i’m on my way
cuz i know he got that hay
hey little mami
you a ghetto fire tin
you come to my post on the island
come on that chronic
he-he empty vodka bottles
i be high he be drunk that my roll model
i rolls by you with my seat reclining
when i stop rims don’t keep spinning they keep shining
money don’t stop keep spinning and keep grinding
cash money what you hollering, huh

[hook]

- real mccoy lyrics

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