Air Forces - Young Jeezy

I went from old school Chevys, to drop-top Porsches

You couldn’t walk a mile off in my Air Forces

And you ain’t seen what I’ve seen

I can get a hundred thousand in these Sean John jeans

I went from old school Chevys, to drop top Porsches

And you ain’t did what I did

If you from where I’m from you gotta get how you live

Everybody already know, Jeezy a real street nigga

Every time you see me out with real street niggas

I hope you got yours I keep mine

In the club blowing dro throwing gang signs

And you already know dog

745s, back to back, me and O Dog

These other niggas is jokers

What they rein' up wit I spent it all at Strokers

In one night, eight bitches, ten bottles of Cris

Forty grand spent just to make you glance at my wrist

Keep bread so we carry dem toasters

But keep back though my earrings ferocious

It’s not just my imagination

I’m the one on the topic of your conversation

Jack boys say they gon' rob

But on the real fuck niggas y’all don’t want these problems

Black tees, black Ones, and a fitted cap

The Mac-11 make me walk wit a crazy dap

Y’all say we country niggas yee-haw

The money comin back and forth like a seesaw

And y’all ain’t never seen what we saw

Stacks of twenty dollar bills, bricks of white raw

Where they got little faith, they don’t care bout shit

Ludicrous how they ride, I-20 wit dem bricks

Shit I spit it for y’all

On the real my niggas shit I spit it for y’all

Who gives a fuck about friends?

If you mix the baking soda wit it you can get a Benz

While y’all robbing and boosting

I’m standing over the stove like the chef at Houston’s

And it’s not about the flip mane

Want the real bread, dawg it’s all about your whip game