[Intro]
Uh, you know
We do this shit
We don't need no mothafuckin' compliments, man
N***a get his ass shot, that shit we supposed to do cause we some real n***as
You follow me?
Beatin' n***as ass, fuckin' n***as hoes, ridin' rims
That's shit we supposed to do
Cause we some mothafuckin' real n***as
She a bad bitch, she supposed to fuck with some real n***as

[Chorus: Juvenile]
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
And all my bad bitches, they'll do me
I don't ask them if it's love cause they show me
And all my real n***as ride for me
If we beefin', all you bitches dying slowly

[Verse 1: Waka Flocka Flame]
All the real n***as, they fuckin' with me
Bad bitches, they fuckin' with me
In the VIP, with my strap on me
Blowin' gas, sippin' this cup of Remy
My shoes Fendi, my jeans (?)
My shirt Fendi, my buckle Fendi
She ain't no fun, crew can't hit her
I fuck and pass 'em, ain't cuffing any
Believe it or not, no fucking really
Hood n***a driving this fuckin' Bentley
Don't play no games with these lame n***as
Stomp a n***a out if he scuff my tennys
Every n***a round me 100
Leave a hunnid racks, they won't touch a penny
Bands on me, no twenties, fifties
Just hundreds, pockets they stuffed with centuries
They say Flocka, he a shooter
Damn right, that's what I'm good at n***a
You can try me if you want to
Get your shit pushed back, n***a
Half a ticket on my neck like a dope boy
Lookin' like I cooked that, n***a
I’m a real jack boy
Caught a n***a slippin' and I took that, n***a
[Chorus: Juvenile]
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
And all my bad bitches, they'll do me
I don't ask them if it's love cause they show me
And all my real n***as ride for me
If we beefin', all you bitches dying slowly

[Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame]
Check the lane, I'm flexin'
Real n***as only in my section
Ferragamo my belt buckle
Hand cuffs on me, no arresting
FN on my waist line
In case a fuck n***a wanna test me
Elm Street, I'm Piru
Real right n***a, no leftie
Ask around town, n***as know Flocka
I'm a real street n***a, name heavy
In the bushes, that chopper n***a
Dressed in all black like Wesley
I'm a rich n***a, for some red bottoms
She'll do anything, she bless me
Have a threesome with two bad bitches
I fucked her and her bestie
Only smoke gas, no reggie
If it ain't loud, don't pass it
Real street n***a with a bank account
200k in my matress
Won't ever change, always stay the same
Only thing that change is my address
With my status, can’t fuck with basic bitches
Can’t fuck with her if she average
Squad
[Chorus: Juvenile]
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
I'm good at what I do (good at what I do)
And all my bad bitches, they'll do me
I don't ask them if it's love cause they show me
And all my real n***as ride for me
If we beefin', all you bitches dying slowly