Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Real Me, artist - Guilty Simpson. Album song Ode To The Ghetto, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.03.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Stones Throw
Song language: English
The Real Me |
That sounds beautiful, right there |
What up Black Milk? |
Detroit City, let’s go |
Mama got bills, papa got ghost |
My new father figure’s popping that toast |
On the corner where the dopeman boast |
Arguing who got the most |
Barely got a pot for roast (Starving) |
But always have pots for coke |
When you’re broke the hood got jokes |
A lot of brothers doing good got smoked |
Many blood stains paint the ave |
Makes you wonder what choice we have (Not many) |
I chose not to take that path |
I ain’t tryna feel the DEA’s wrath |
So I push it on the freeway fast |
Tryna see another b-day pass |
Some think my success won’t last |
Still I go hard and get cash |
Since you don’t know |
(It's Guilty you feel me, my foes wanna kill me, I can feel it) |
One day you gotta go |
(And I know but the dough got me dreaming of filthy, I’mma get it) |
Since you don’t know |
(Just pop in the disc and you gettin' the real me, I’m the realest) |
My friend got killed, his girl got problems |
She saw what happened when they robbed him |
The block got eyes and ears |
The strong survive so dry your tears |
Be leery of the guys you speak with |
Showing emotion is a sign of weakness |
And that’s deep shit |
Sometimes the ones you beef with are the ones you eat with |
And that’s sad to say |
I hate it that your friends gotta act that way |
Money is the root when you stack that pay |
They wanna do you like MLK |
Catch you on the balcony, shoot you in the head |
Face down dead, take all your bread |
Haters got setups to murk the ballers |
That’s why I had to make my circle smaller |