Released: July 26, 2005
Songwriter: Jeezy Shawty Redd
Producer: Shawty Redd
[Hook]
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
[Verse 1]
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
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
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
[Hook]
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
[Verse 1]
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
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
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
[Hook]