Blow Tales Pt. 2

[Intro: Eastside 80's]
I never hit no jeweler with no silly change
Ten thousand dollars on your neck, that's a dilly chain
Ain't nobody ever gave me shit, boy I'm really made
In prison still talking shit, cause I'm really paid
Turn Around Gang, Fast Money Shit
M.B.C., F.O.D., Cash Money Shit
Doing time will never break me, I got tunnel vision
You gone see this shit H.D., soon as they release me

[Verse 1: Eastside 80's]
Dopeman, bitch, I ain't no rapper
I ain't just take a nigga image, get to acting
These nigga's lying in they songs, mine factual
These nigga's wanna be thе man, mine natural
Still getting paid off of raps, it ain't stagnant
Brodie droppеd [?] at the crib down in Lexington
I'm coming straight home, build me a castle
Filet Mignon, no more Mackerels
No more shackles, little more capital
Lil' more revenue, lil' less residue
Lil more avenue, lil more attitude
Built my legacy off Scooby Snacks, Yabba Dabba Doo, yeah

[Chorus: LOM Rudy]
Blow Tales, catching cases you can't fight (not at all)
Look, see compressors, get excited (on my momma)
Aye, just trying not to get indicted
No money like blow money, ain't nothing like it
Blow Tales, turn three hundred grams to a wholesale (thousand)
Hit it two times, then it's gone sell (for real)
You know we playing with that sack right
Get it, and get to wrestling with that jack right (jack)

[Verse 2: LOM Rudy]
You ain't never hit the road with that fit on you (big naw)
After hitting boy like he spit on you (hard as hell)
You ain't never turned around, got that spin on you (T.A.G.)
Or been around it so much, got that scent on you (smell like it)
You can't mix it like us, bet you sit on it (bet you sit on it)
Try not to run it back, twenty cents on you (twenty thousand)
Nigga chugged a [?] had to let him be (leave him alone)
Let em' know we got that smoke, nigga F.M.B
Put that on M.B.C., that's the set, nigga S.E.T. (that's the clique)
Come invest in me, run through that field like a referee (for real)
Told em' "just don't touch that dog", ain't no pettin' him
Nigga volunteered to take the bag down to Tennessee (get it)
Ask me if I got raw, is you shitting me? (is you dumb?)
Know I keep a lil boy, is you kidding me? (a lot of boy)
Had to leave my baby mama, it's been killing me (crazy)
Yeah, she couldn't hold the tea, end up spilling me (for real)
This shit so personal, I can't make this up (naw)
I got to be a real nigga, I can't fake this pump (I can't do it)
When we get a new flavor, huh, taste this Unc (try it out)
A bunch of food in the bag, nigga, take this lunch

[Interlude: Eastside 80's]
You ain't never had to worry about the police, nigga
Y'all some rappin' ass, acting ass nigga's man
These is motherfuckin' Blow Tales, nigga
Shout out every nigga who ever had that bag on the road, nigga, and got away with it, nigga
Shout out to any nigga who ever caught a case and beat that motherfucker
Free all the ones who ain't beat they shit, you know, Blow Tales

[Chorus: LOM Rudy]
Blow Tales, catching cases you can't fight (not at all)
Look, see compressors, get excited (on my momma)
Aye, just trying not to get indicted
No money like blow money, ain't nothing like it
Blow Tales, turn three hundred grams to a wholesale (thousand)
Hit it two times, then it's gone sell (for real)
You know we playing with that sack right
Get it, and get to wrestling with that jack right (jack)

[Outro: Eastside 80's]
Y'all nigga's ain't never sold no dope, he ain't even sold a bag of weed
To the motherfuckin dispensaries that opened around this bitch
Y'all niggas some motherfuckin kids, nigga
Me and my nigga's paved the way around this bitch
We ain't paid the way, we paved the way, nigga
Put your legs up nigga, this shit easy, now, ain't it
Blow Tales, I'm in the joint right now