Mine Real - Bodega Bamz, Da$h

Pop that pussy for a papi, lunch at Noble, bring hot saki

Don’t wheelie on Kawasakis, only Hayabusas

My bad bitches don’t smoke no hookah

Hookers be on point, Uncle Sam read my lips

Understand you know, you know, you like Bodega Bamz

Call me god, Uncle sham

Pissed 'em off now they can’t stand me

Nose, I got that candy

More I got that mandate, yo dare me

No reggie, only sour, shooters semi’s

Automatics I got plenty

Loaded Remington, chill on Lexington

I make these bitches cum, I got your wifey sprung

She don’t get no ones, that bird just get these crumbs

I live the life of a heffer, all these workers my sons

What your life 'bout homie

Mines, mines real

Dillinger to desperado, skin look like I’m born in Cairo

Pyromaniac, getting brainiac from this former model

Bottle to my lips, Henny sips until I piss it out

Kid with clout putting that George Jung in your women snout

Then I’m up outta there, homerun

My outer wear look like your favorite store front

I step out and they applaud him

Chick is seeing they adore him

Posters on they fucking wall, fuck 'em all

Then like New Years I drop 'em like the fucking ball

Real God like, preachers say I’m blasphemous

Clorox on the Ox cause I don’t mix beef with the rapping shit

Money come fast but my body off that Actavis

Director calling cut for all you niggas out here acting bitch

What your life 'bout homie

Mines, mines real