(Lil Wayne Talking) I never felt better, Never have, Never will, (Holla) I mean all I see is money, I got a C-Note between my eyes, (Its Real) Please feel me, Sqad Up nigga, (For Real) I'ma dig deep folk, Dig deep dogg, (Its Real) Now listen, Now what you is? (Verse 1) I am what you call a survivor, like trouble with drama But I recover with power, and love it with honor Discovered as a son of a problem Remember smugglin powder throught the doors of my high school To force up they nostril, 'til it got full But now they pop for a pill Lil one here's what's up, Drugs could kill But drugs could heal If ya, ahh, ill for that good feel And it feels good when them fields pull We wheels quarters through the real raw parts of the streets My hearts in the streets, So watch what ya step When ya run from the gunfire of Glocks and Tech's Specials and Pumps, Vests is for chumps Eat ya chests for lunch, munch Young country dude, hunt ya down with tools Repsect my presence, I step with weapons You fall in seconds Its all in the code of the streets, we go by it and stop from it Real nigga talk, No frontin Heh (Chorus) Do you understand the words that are comin out of my mouth? If ya dont its because I'm speakin real nigga Real nigga, This here is real nigga talk Real nigga talk dogg, I hope you feel me Let me talk to you dogg, You gotta feel me I hope you feel me, You gotta feel me Listen (Verse 2) Chrome's hidden inside of my tires You should see the size of my tires Ridin' on Mark McGwires, I spark the fire Got me higher than a late flight From L.A. to New York twice in the same night Got some shit in my bag to make ya vein white, Cocaine pipe Watch homie's brains get rain whipped Thats the type of sight to make Wayne right They sayin life is short but money is long, And money is life So for now I'm runnin the lights, in the 600 with pipes Hop out, Collar Polo, and under the stripes is something that bites We will be thuggin for life And can't nothin pursuede or change us We gangstas, we live it, I'm in the post without a Pippen But fuck it, I'm just shootin when I can't move Who'da knew I can't lose And truthfully through the loot that's Young Money Entertainment You get it arranged then holla at me (Chorus w/ minor variations) (Verse 3) I burn in the winter, stand up in the fall Stand up in the stands, and stand up for my dogs Them asses I will spall, the plan is too ball But the stuff I got in my pants cuff is enough to make'em put my hands on the wall Work, push on the strip, I'm pushin the whip Fat back pockets, my cushion if I'm lookin to slip I'm hookin ya lip, If ya play hookie with my chips Put that ass kitchen, bitch, when ya cookin that shit Dodge hoes, jukin and shit Cause I can see beautiful women, but I'm not lookin for shit I'm from the hood where you tooken for shit So you gotta take the shit, and make ya shit I had to bring home the bacon bits Cause Pop's was fakin, and he left a nigga bakin shit Now my heart ache and itch, from all the flagrant shit I gotta take in, and thug out Real nigga talk, bitch (Chorus w/ minor variations)