DJ Green Lantern and OT The Real - DJ Green Lantern Freestyle

Intro (OT The Real)

Imma give it to em real
The way I got it
Just break em off

Verse 1 (OT The Real)

If you fail the plan then you plan to fail
My smoker wasn't lying when he said he ran the jail
He just killed the youngin, took his work and his scale
Damn it's real, then he got indicted for a hammer sale
I build myself up and I fell
I mixed the tranq with the Fetty
That bitch deadly, Annabelle
You probably catch and you'll tell
My youngin's ran in cells poke you up
And beat you until they hands will swell
I played a lot of roles, Samuel L
I sold a lot of blow, with a lot of Joses, and Emanuels
I front my first youngin his first gram and scale
I know how vanish well
Did five for a gun and a sale
My bro keep calling, he need that quarter still
I said ten minutes, he probably waiting on that corner still
Both hands near the nine like quarter till
This coke numbs your gums like Orajel
Gotta play like I weigh it homie
I got bail if I get booked, Dunny pay it for me
These halfway hustlers cant fuck with me now
I still got all my old blocks with some companies now
The game's over but the real remain closer
Served 28 grams out, 28 smokers
400 a grizzle, I came up off that crizzle
They come back when there's nothing just to hear one more sizzle
Picture me rolling with my fat L
As a youngin learned to stay away from people that tell
I pull this pistol quicker than a crack sale
Did the math, chopped the brick in half like a blackbelt
Fuck your hundred grams, it's straight to the chumpies
Forty on the front seat
Telling pap to front me
I can't burn cause his family will come and hunt me
Last time they flew hitters in from out the country
20 birds inside a Town and Country
The Feds riding around in Audis
And the corner boys are all the junkies
Known rats out here living comfy
The thorough cats won't fuck with em but they keep around a couple flunkies
I dare a group of dudes to try and jump me
It's gonna get ugly, I'm gonna leave somebody's son face up on the concrete
Ain't no self-defense up in my city
They try to kill you and you kill em you get charged up and they find you guilty
I cross that bridge though when I get to it
Everybody brought something to the table, I brought connects to it
The K-2 took shorty body over like the exorcist
I just dished the rock I'm already looking for my next assist
Like John Stockton my brodie got jawns poppin'
Black glock throw up in the stash box when the law stop him
I'm on and poppin, me falling back is just not an option
Feds listen close when my song droppin'
I might have to switch the dates up
Tell my smoker bitch I got that shit that twist ya face up
She know my pockets like her make up, caked up
I just need a gram for every time they show me fake love

Written by:
James D'Agostino, Stephen P. Odell

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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