Joey Bada$$, Nyck Caution, Dirty Sanchez - 47 Goonz lyrics

This is from the real side

Yo, Badass don't act or pretend
Back at it again
Hit it from the back, she a addict within
I got her on some shit like
"I'm a get tatted for him"
She a ride or die, slim
When she in the denims
Remember it like it was yesterday
Another case of "I fucked your bitch
Nigga" but a more clever way
Quarter in the room to elevate
Said if you ever may
Slip then hit her on the
Hip where the Beretta stay
Catch me somersaulting my eyelids
Awakened from a dream
Just perceived how I live
So it's make believe, rather unique
Lavish, sweet all live in a rapper physique
Hit up a show then after retreat
Back to the telly with freaks
Pack up a bowl and we ain't even eat
But we got a appetite for
Cookie creases and treats
And they all got tricks up they sleeve

I'm ashing on the bridge, Mary Jane
Fuck your cigarettes
I'm laughing out loud, ask me
If I'm still stressed, possessed
Hope the boys in blue
Don't arrest yours truly
Respect but suspect
Protect your neck jewelry
47s and Uzis, well-connected and recruiting
I be with my Mexicans
I know they got the toolie
I'm smoking doobies with like 20 of my goons
Hotbox the whip and let smoke fill the room
Even through my lenses
My sense is on the moon
Dirty be the name and I
Came from the black lagoon
I'm sick with the ink like infected tattoos
Just one love but the two-three's
Branded on my shoes
You would think I had a eighth
The way I'm crushing them grapes
Had her whining for a taste
That's why she's up in my face
Them Apex taking over like
We running with Apes
What's the verdict? Nothing but
A fucking disgrace, nigga

Check this ain't quiddtch but you know
The snitch get caught
Then get bitched like the bitch she brought
Throw your fit then walk
When they clip all of your Christmas thoughts
There's no giving when they take what you got
Placed in the crop circle, doc with a smock
See
Art what we drop, shopping cart with Da Vinci
Whimpering, leave that risk to your Pros
Wrist full of stone
Lapidate if they pass me the smoke
I'm strapped and irate, daps from the fake
Get me mad and I contemplate irrational mode
Don't think about nada
Strung you by your collar
The flow father who balanced
Out his chromosomes proper
I'm going home partner like Posada
They talk beef
But toss the ensalada, peep the blue Impala
There's arrogant cops who stay intruding
Can't stop the 47 like
Protagonist in Absolution
Them wack rappers who track-eluding
Critic is a random student who use the
Era as a new rap influence
Faster than ransom shootings or
Some cancer fluid
I still kill and you can't lose it