Lyrics:
finally set free
By the realization, all I gotta do is be me, be me
Uh, anime-lovin', video game-playin'
Put that shit in my raps, people like, "What
shit back like medieval
I spit at it like a Baretta, you know I get better by givin' the people
Not a fuck given, check the method, that's how we
Foreign ambitions, they go with my last wishes
As I open my eyes, surprised by 7 figures
Baking soda required, decided drug dealin'
Residents is divided
are in front of me
They make me
Want to get on tonight
This is a Ziggens song by the way
I'm at the age where I realize
The liquor store won't bring
it's hatin when your skaten and your pockets is fat
Don't act for a minute like your ass surprised
Just reconize the real way that gangsta's ride
If
our dress cold is all black
Y’all niggas always say y’all real but y’all Niggas really rats
Look at the scoreboard, we up by twenty four y’all need get
more than Curtis
Matter of fact, this beef shit is making niggaz nervous
It's gonna be families grieving every sunday service
End up with your head
On the real nigga, I'm a real nigga
I run around with them real niggas
Got real sons, I need a real sitter
When I leave niggas, they get real
Just get on the mic, get on the mic, Mike
Let's be real and don't cloud the issue
The rhymes are dope an M.C. you must listen to
People say that
the candle lit, my nigga never rowed
Niggas caught him slipping, gave him a shit bag
Five shots to the stomach, 2Pac gift pack
It's death row, conspiracy
being real, you give mе chills
I said if I'm being real
The shit I ain't feel bеfore
Goin' thru these motions' all by myself
But this shit weight on me,
you came prepared
Straight Strong-Armin, nigga we don't play fair
[Chorus]
[Verse 3 - Fat Joe]
Be-X, T.S
Ya heard me?
Youngn' Rest
Uh, yo, yo
Gear up,
mean
Now I'm on the scene, stepping through like mean joe green
Now I'm making you feel the extreme
Till I black you out then turn on my real high
out, grab a white bitch by her titties
Rock wallabies, this is Clarkology
You know copy Starky belong wit the triple technology
Quick wit the pistol,
it's real
AIDS kills, word up respect this, yo
Coming from the Wu, it's real
Verse Four: Master Killer, Inspector Deck
Caught by
Aye yo, new lonely island, two thousand eleven,
Let's get 'em Kiv!
Aye yo my dick don't work, that shit is soft as a pillow
My girlie looking
Red and blue Gucci shit
Ain't nothing changed but the year it is
I think I have to send you a reminder here it is
Reminder (ar)
Reminder (ar)
I
Louch, went double plastic
Yayo, Buck and Banks is puttin' out classics
A hundred shots, a hundred clips
Y'all ready to die
Fat Joe ain't a gangsta, he
the candle lit, my nigga never rowed
Niggas caught him slipping, gave him a shit bag
Five shots to the stomach, 2Pac gift pack
It's death row, conspiracy
but they can't say shit
I'm just here to separate the real from that fake shit
I told you I was coming and I'm sorry for the wait
I gotta get this
is "Eazy-E"
"Eazy Mutha Fuckn E, A real Nigga, Born and Raised in Mutha Fuckn
Compton, This ones dedicated to you busta ass niggaz ,you know
who you
And expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is
Of course they're gonna know what intercourse is
By the time they hit fourth grade
They've got
was as real as me,
You would never let another nigga step in yo yard
Makin money ain't shit to me
Cause it's in my veins and it gets to my heart
So I
more tricks than a Hunts Point ho
Search for beats with my man called Show
Then I shoot the gift with my man Fat Joe
I put hits together just like
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