Boldy James and Real Bad Man - All The Way Out

Speed up
Where we at
It's 27, Blockworks
Let's get it

Uh-uh, uh
I might tear up if I give you the clear cut
All I been through and all that they can tell me do is cheer up
I heard bro name popped up in some paperwork
He got a lotta smut on his rep he gotta clear up
Ain't tryna hear much like I got on some earmuffs
I been schooled, grab a seat and pull a chair up
Fully auto chopstick with the hair switch
We be thuggin' in the project more than a Blair Witch
All of these carats in my rolo, dolo on the block
Why you roll around with twenty niggas like a scared bitch?
Pussy nigga know my body I got framework
Type of nigga get a nigga whole gang murked (whole gang murked)
Give a fuck about the narcs or the blue and whites
Only worry 'bout them undercovers in them plain shirts
Ain't ride for your gang member shouldn't rep his death
Be them same fake lame niggas that don't ever step

If I don't got it on me, then brodie got it on him
And he gon' crash all the way out (and he gon' crash all the way out)
I'm Phil Jack', I just call the play out
The shit was all bad before I saw it play out
Doing the hokey-pokey, I put one foot in, the other foot
He had it all the way out (big step) (foot he had it all the way out)

Ayy, I'm stuck in this shit
Plug hit me with a bad batch, now I'm stuck with this shit
Drum roll'll get to kickin', ain't no Jackie Chan
AR autograph a nigga block up, I'll crack a fan
Leave a spliffy in his casket, Gucci Dapper Dan
Heard them niggas want smoke, with blocks we can match a gram (Blockworks)
Half a band for this chop, bought it half off
Let off half a clip, came back and spin after we stabbed off
Don Juli in my ghetto, we who got the strength
Playin' both sides against the middle, niggas not exempt
Airing shit out, only way that I know how to vent
None of your niggas not killers, they just got attempts
I make this shit look easier than Robin Thicke
80k in my left pocket, left a wallet print
Seen my first brick of 'caine in the trap with Tino
Double coffee cup full of drank, this ain't no cappuccino

If I don't got it on me, then brodie got it on him
And he gon' crash all the way out (and he gon' crash all the way out)
I'm Phil Jack', I just call the play out
The shit was all bad before I saw it play out
Doing the hokey-pokey, I put one foot in, the other foot
He had it all the way out (big step) (foot he had it all the way out)

Where we at?

Paper right back then
Why every time that I get out, they pull me right back in?
It's mafia, what else?

Written by:
Adam Weissman, James Clay Jones

Publisher:
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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