Boy Lyrics – E40
Singer: E40
Title: Boy
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call it? (call it, call it)
Yo (P Lo, time to bring the bass back)
Yo, yo…
Ayy, yeah, wake, wake sh#t up, ayy
On my mama, I can’t make sh#t up, ayy
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call it?
I don’t think you want no problems
Wake, wake sh#t up, ayy
On my mama, I can’t make sh#t up, ayy
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call it?
I don’t think you want no problems
You see it… you see it, you see it (woo)
VS’s in my grill, you peeped it, you peeped it (woo)
I’m a boy for real, I keep it, I keep it
On me stay heated, I’ll knock the meat out yo’ pita
Crack them gates up in Rita, or should I say jail?
JPay, CorrLinks, and Music by Mail
I started with nothin’, ended up with a lot
All my life I been hustlin’ and clutchin’ choppas and Glocks
Man, I get it to pop, whenever I’m on the block
Never know who will score when you feed ’em the rock
Six in the mornin’, dreads at my spot
Ball on the floor, team ready to drop
Run with scotch, I roll one up
Enough in my blunt to levitate like monks
Big boss status ain’t made for runts
Exotics online that’ll wake sh#t up
Ayy, yeah, wake, wake sh#t up, ayy
On my mama, I can’t make sh#t up, ayy
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call it?
I don’t think you want no problems
Wake, wake sh#t up, ayy
On my mama, I can’t make sh#t up, ayy
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call it?
I don’t think you want no problems
I’m authentic
Got a Bela and a heater when I’m off in it
When I meet her I’ma need about a soft minute
We could chop it over lunch, maybe talk spinach
Got a product we can rock and we walk with it
Get a bag, run it up then we run it back
Get a pack to the yak, watch how they act
It’s a wrap when it’s wrapped and it’s all intact
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call that?
Havin’ at it, gettin’ to it
I’m on this juice, same color as transmission fluid
Two units on my collarbone
But the, screen cracked on my iPhone
And uh, these n#gg#s dealin’ with their hormones
They actin’ like b#tches, they need some tampons
I’m havin’ my riches, I’m sittin’ on a few tickets
And I’ll lay a n#gg# out like a nap kon, Biatchi
Ayy, yeah, wake, wake sh#t up, ayy
On my mama, I can’t make sh#t up, ayy
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call it?
I don’t think you want no problems
Wake, wake sh#t up, ayy
On my mama, I can’t make sh#t up, ayy
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call it?
I don’t think you want no problems
Everything Gucci in another week
Just put the stash in a seven-three
Me and little bruh, we don’t even speak
Block me on the ‘gram, I ain’t even peep
All I ever had was a bunch of love
Pop anybody tryin’ to f#ck with cuz
It is what it is, was what it was
Truth really is, we don’t give a f#ck
Rose gold Rucci rims on my Chevy, the paint wet (wet)
Bought a studio with my SoundExchange check
(SoundExchange check)
I’m a movie ho, you can find me on the set (set)
Slappin’ dominoes, shootin’ dice, talkin’ sh#t (biatch)
Excruciating throb in the trunk of the mob
Mama used to tell me to get me a job
I used to tell my mama “Don’t you worry, sahob”
One day my pockets gon’ be as fat as the blob
Ayy, yeah, wake, wake sh#t up, ayy
On my mama, I can’t make sh#t up, ayy
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call it?
I don’t think you want no problems
Wake, wake sh#t up, ayy
On my mama, I can’t make sh#t up, ayy
If I ain’t a real boy, what you call it?
I don’t think you want no problems
Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
You can purchase their music thruor
Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate and an Apple Partner, we earn from qualifying purchases
Other Popular Songs:
Lil Wayne, Preme - Hot Boy
Chevy Jai - Twenty+1
Lyrics E40 – Boy
Kindly like and share our content. Please follow our site to get the latest lyrics for all songs.
We don’t provide any MP3 Download, please support the artist by purchasing their music 🙂
You can purchase their music thru