Released: September 3, 2011
Songwriter: Jeezy
Producer: Lil’ Lody
[Lead in: Jeezy]
Just coolin'... (x6)
[Verse 1: Jeezy]
Look...
I was a boy in the hood before I ever knew Puffy
Bitch I been a made man, dare you muh'fuckas to touch me. (x3)
Guess I was too legit, like hammer, they can't touch me
Made a livin' off Arm & Hammer, guess I was lucky (Go)
Y'all niggas don't really want it with 'cool J'
I guess it's me against the world, God damn, what can I say?
I put them little boys on my lap, I birthed niggas
How you think they got on the map? I earthed niggas
Keep buying bullshit chains, should pay some homage
Sell your music from the side of the road, the shit is garbage
Look at Young, came right back applying pressure
Just know that I'mma die by mine, might need a stretcher (Look)
Look at me, I'm back on my shit, nothing can touch me
I can buy a hundred sixteen bricks, move to Kentucky
Might buy a big house on the hill, might buy a farm
Bitch, I'm buying so many watches, might buy an arm (Yeeeahhhhhhh)
Dead fresh in some 187’s, a livin legend
Street Bible say when I die, I'll live in Heaven
But just in case a nigga don't make it, see you in Hell
The streets ain't fucking with Snow? I can't tell
I remember selling so much snow, I couldn't smell
"Where you learn to do your thing with the snow?" It wasn't Yale
Graduated at the top of my class, no cap and gown
Copped that candy-cane Lam' on they ass, who's capping now?
Man these muh'fuckas hating to hate, that's what I hate
Look them deep down way in their soul, they know I'm great
Muthafuckas acting like I ain't did it, like I ain't done it
The Michael Jackson of my lane, and bitch I run it
And I can see the finish line from here, I might sprint
Remember nothing inside my pockets but white lint
I should charge you mothafuckas to roam, just like Sprint
I'm used to bussin' licks all on my phone, behind tint
I'm from where niggas pull them home invasions behind rent
From where them folks have them dogs in the cars behind tints
From where them best friend shoot up they friends behind cash
Best friends shoot up they Benz behind ass
And I was the one keeping it real, when they was faking
And I was the one to serve you a deal, when they was baking
Can paint a picture using my words, look like they posing
You know my chains like to dance in the light, look like they voguing
Used to risk my life, that's everyday, that trap life
Think these muh'fuckas mad cause I know what that trap likes
Y'all got these mothafuckas thinking they street, they really sidewalk
Nigga don't say what they mean, they really side talk
Fresh Air Max, a hundred miles, and running
I do it for them niggas, a hundred pounds and coming
And damn right that boy ain't playing, he right back
Know how to say right shit on the right track
And everybody ordering beef, I had a steak
Serve me two to the head, my momma' gon' cry a lake
Till my casket drop I'm chasing this cash, when will it stop?
Bet my bitch went to bed masturbating, listening to Pac
They love me when I was here, but when will they mourn me?
Ten deep on the side of the road, in that Californy
Damn right, TMZ they on me
They ain't tell you 'bout them two 40 cals was on me
Extend-o with them long ass clips, them bitches heavy
And ain't no more play in GA, cause bitch im ready. 'The Real'...
Just coolin'... (x6)
[Verse 1: Jeezy]
Look...
I was a boy in the hood before I ever knew Puffy
Bitch I been a made man, dare you muh'fuckas to touch me. (x3)
Guess I was too legit, like hammer, they can't touch me
Made a livin' off Arm & Hammer, guess I was lucky (Go)
Y'all niggas don't really want it with 'cool J'
I guess it's me against the world, God damn, what can I say?
I put them little boys on my lap, I birthed niggas
How you think they got on the map? I earthed niggas
Keep buying bullshit chains, should pay some homage
Sell your music from the side of the road, the shit is garbage
Look at Young, came right back applying pressure
Just know that I'mma die by mine, might need a stretcher (Look)
Look at me, I'm back on my shit, nothing can touch me
I can buy a hundred sixteen bricks, move to Kentucky
Might buy a big house on the hill, might buy a farm
Bitch, I'm buying so many watches, might buy an arm (Yeeeahhhhhhh)
Dead fresh in some 187’s, a livin legend
Street Bible say when I die, I'll live in Heaven
But just in case a nigga don't make it, see you in Hell
The streets ain't fucking with Snow? I can't tell
I remember selling so much snow, I couldn't smell
"Where you learn to do your thing with the snow?" It wasn't Yale
Graduated at the top of my class, no cap and gown
Copped that candy-cane Lam' on they ass, who's capping now?
Man these muh'fuckas hating to hate, that's what I hate
Look them deep down way in their soul, they know I'm great
Muthafuckas acting like I ain't did it, like I ain't done it
The Michael Jackson of my lane, and bitch I run it
And I can see the finish line from here, I might sprint
Remember nothing inside my pockets but white lint
I should charge you mothafuckas to roam, just like Sprint
I'm used to bussin' licks all on my phone, behind tint
I'm from where niggas pull them home invasions behind rent
From where them folks have them dogs in the cars behind tints
From where them best friend shoot up they friends behind cash
Best friends shoot up they Benz behind ass
And I was the one keeping it real, when they was faking
And I was the one to serve you a deal, when they was baking
Can paint a picture using my words, look like they posing
You know my chains like to dance in the light, look like they voguing
Used to risk my life, that's everyday, that trap life
Think these muh'fuckas mad cause I know what that trap likes
Y'all got these mothafuckas thinking they street, they really sidewalk
Nigga don't say what they mean, they really side talk
Fresh Air Max, a hundred miles, and running
I do it for them niggas, a hundred pounds and coming
And damn right that boy ain't playing, he right back
Know how to say right shit on the right track
And everybody ordering beef, I had a steak
Serve me two to the head, my momma' gon' cry a lake
Till my casket drop I'm chasing this cash, when will it stop?
Bet my bitch went to bed masturbating, listening to Pac
They love me when I was here, but when will they mourn me?
Ten deep on the side of the road, in that Californy
Damn right, TMZ they on me
They ain't tell you 'bout them two 40 cals was on me
Extend-o with them long ass clips, them bitches heavy
And ain't no more play in GA, cause bitch im ready. 'The Real'...