Shit Got Forreal (Sorry Ms. Jackson Freestyle)

[Intro]
Play we-
Uhh, YL
This shit got for real

[Verse]
Strapped up, two army guns
Me and my niggas, we been shootin' shit for fun
I'm on pocket pack so ain't nobody make me run
Hop out on him and he done
Hop out on him wit' a big AR
I pull up and a nigga get wacked
I pull up it and it hit your arm and legs
Nigga really pussy, I don't believe that
Nigga really pussy, I don't even believe that
Freaky bitch and I need her
She be suckin' dick when I need her
Walked down singin' like Anita
Nigga really pussy, nigga really fakin'
I just burn him, fry him, bacon
Nigga really know I'ma take it
Say they from the A but nigga really be from Macon
What the hell I'm talkin' bout? I don't know either
I'm a real Spartanburg nigga
You can catch me in the Croft back then
Now I'm ridin' 'round town gettin' it in
I got plenty fuckin' drugs for the low, boy
Now let me take that back, no, I don't, boy
'Cause the Police they be literally tellin' words
But I still leave a nigga on the curb
Bitch, I'm racked up, yeah, bitch, I'm guaped up
Yeah, pull up on you, nigga, wit' that helicopter
That's a baby carbon, yeah, that hit your father
I don't give a fuck, I wish it would go farther
And I got you on the scope, you a target
Leave a nigga down bad, farted
Shitted on yourself, let his bowels loose
Please don't make me crash like Bandicoot