We run everythin
We run the streets, the radio and the club
All of the above
Yes, yes
All the above
Oh, oh, oh
All the above
Oh, oh, oh
Yeah, Mr. Him FReal is here
Curbside by Atlanta, I got a mill out there
Billionaires Boys Club, cant chill in here
Gold bottles of that bubb, yall spillin beer
The boy only pour on that ace of spades
Forbes Magazine homes, soon to grace the page
I pull 7 digits clean, soon as I grace the stage
I done caught up with the paper, yall chasin change
Man, Im runnin up Broad Street in and out of lanes
With the top down screamin out, you niggaz know the sayin
Cmon, you niggaz know my name
Its the bully with the bucks, aint a damn thing changed
Im hood, Im street
Still standin in the middle of the beat
Im a mack, Im a thug
Im a pimp, I does all the above
On the low Im in the fastest whip
And in the spot Im with the baddest chick
Up in the club got these niggaz pissed
We got bottles and a pound of twist
All the above
We buy out the bar
And all night puff on cigars
We get so much love and all of the above
Yeah, Mr. Beat the case is back
Got acquitted, stitch fitted in that gangster hat
Now Im back, sick with it with this gangster rap
Lets get it, where my gangsters at? Make noise
And I aint never been no fraud
No, nah thats not in my rapport
Never fronted on my boys for no whore
I aint never been no bitch, nor never lied on my dick
Yall niggaz still dyin for these whores
I aint never been no snitch, never been no rat
Never shot a nigga in his back
I always put the drama to his face
I aint never pull my strap and aint clap
Got my case, did my time now Im back
Im hood, Im street
Still standin in the middle of the beat
Im a mack, Im a thug
Im a pimp, I does all the above
On the low Im in the fastest whip
And in the spot Im with the baddest chick
Up in the club got these niggaz pissed
We got bottles and a pound of twist
All the above
We buy out the bar
And all night puff on cigars
We get so much love and all of the above
Up in the club still poppin the Cris
Still back it up whenever I talk shit
Man, Im worth about a billion but Im still hood rich
Still hoppin out the whip with a hot-ass chick
Still rockin the chain, they still knowin my name
Its Kels, thats right, bitch, Im still in the game
Still walk through the hood like Im holdin that thang
Still limp through the club like Im holdin that cane
Its two fingers for a rock star, middle for a bitch
Come in by self and leave out witcha chick
Beanie Sigel got my back if we run into a snitch
And Kels got his back if he ever need a hit
From the tour to the block
We keep risin to the top
From the club to the parkin lot
We bout to show the haters what we got, so lets go
Sigel was the name that they gave me
Its the Broad Street Bully, Im number one
Five oh, said freeze when I had the gun
But I dont stop for the law, pushed the pedal to the floor
Rock star nigga, heavy metal on the drawer
Because my life is how I mic this, police wan see my license
Run my social, check my gov, search my glove
Keep they hand on they toast when they approach this thug
Cause Im a hoodlum, a monster, bad boy, a good fella
Gangster and a thug, yes, Im all the above
Im hood, Im street
Still standin in the middle of the beat
Im a mack, Im a thug
Im a pimp, I does all the above
On the low Im in the fastest whip
And in the spot Im with the baddest chick
Up in the club got these niggaz pissed
We got bottles and a pound of twist
All the above
We buy out the bar
And all night puff on cigars
We get so much love and all of the above