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Absolutly Correct (Only notes will be sent) Mostly Correct, yet... The lyrics are wrong Very Wrong Not the lyrics to BETTER THAN I CAN TELL YA (FEAT. A-WAX, RICHIE RICH, RUSSELL LEE)
Severity is 3
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Lyric Body	[Russell Lee] Yeah, Yeah I'm a spit some of this real game Some real shit Some real talk Na, na Whoa-oh, Whoa [Richie Rich] Ugh, check my watch Check my chain It's simple and plain The Chevy wit the blew out brains As I bounce and mash Count this cash Floss and flash Cop and blow a zip wit Bash Since everything is big in Texas then where's the zag's? I'm a cross the finish line Tell me where's the flags? Brought my rag top Should have brought the Jag On the beach me and Beesh Look at all this ass I could tell you stories but can show you cash Give you game and secrets that I know you'll pass To the next playa hater And he'll break like glass Now I got a bunch of people digging' through my pads So I choose to floss Cuz who's the boss, let's ink it It's Richie Rich for those who thought re-think it Some yell it and tell it I blow it and smoke it and smell it Let's spend tokens wit my people who sell it, what? [Chorus: Russell Lee] I can show you better than I can tell ya, tell ya I can show you better than I can tell ya, tell ya I can show you better than I can tell ya, whoa yeah But it's really nothin' though (But it's really nothin' though) But it's really nothin' though (But it's really nothin' though) [Baby Bash] I could show you somethin' dirty deep up in them corners mayne What the deal? I could bend the block and make it hotter than a Forman grill I got the keys to the Chevy Caprice I could show you mother fuckin' snitches straight to Belize Now that's low Fa sho', conspiracy and parole I could show you real cats doin' time over a ho I could show you poor and happy, or rich one's that lose they mind I could show you dime pieces in school fashion design I could show you street lights and heart beak hotels I could show you young cats gettin' popped wit yayo Down to do what I gotta do to satisfy the man in me And from the looks of thangs the popo's ain't understandin' me The original digital scale reader The pedigree playa who be stackin' his Velveeta I could show you boss stuntin' so fuckin' disgustin' I could show you rapper's frontin' but mayne it's really nothin' [Chorus] [A-Wax] I could show you I could reach you and teach you I know you and where you comin' from I understand it This been goin' on forever dog It's no end Life is like a bullet in your back from a close friend Disappointed to the point where I'm runnin' by myself Never knowin' where I'm goin' start to wonder myself, yeah Money was a necessity My greed got the best of me You think you smokin' Uncle B Who got the recipe? I'm sayin' it's nothin' I say it sincerely, and speakin' clearly I'd rather you respect me than fear me I came a long way and still I got a while to go You probably thinkin' to yourself "What's he smilin' for?" My dog Bash about to be platinum doin' his thang So if you hate him for it, boy you fakin' and know it We takin' this money Big bundles of bills I'm like a whole 'nother person when it come to this skrill
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