Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Keep It Real, artist - Lost Boyz. Album song Legal Drug Money, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1995
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Keep It Real |
Yo believe I paid the dues man I started in the game |
With mans on linden and Devan we drinking ghetto champagne |
Slinging rocks and packing Glock’s on the blocks |
It’s early in the morning I’m selling tumbs from my Reebok |
Tres nicks and dimes I write rhymes |
But the ghetto times they got the cheeks doing crimes |
The street life yeah that’s the only life I know |
Where niggas sling rocks bust shots and push yeah yo |
Sit on crates keep their backs against gates |
Every man is insane he’s got a brain like Norman bates |
Timberland boots ski hats we pack gat’s |
Carry across town because we tapping Niggers Hoodrats |
But they don’t want the fam |
See a south side Jamaica queen fellas get down man |
Listen so what your crew is x-rated |
Peoples if you violate you getting violated |
Come on and keep it real; |
this is saying |
That the lost boy and group home fam want it all what would you do |
And if you feel that you’se a real soldier from the street |
Throw your hand in the air we salute you |
Bounce it up town bounce it down south |
Bounce bounce it up town bounce it down south |
I had a messed up childhood the head is mad nappy |
I need money in a snap gee kid I’m trying to blow like papi |
Fat cat the street life is where it’s at |
Peeling caps so yo we got to stay strapped |
Terrified cause the crew from the south side is bustin |
No question |
I keep my hear in braids taliq got dreads |
Hangin out in the reds wearing levis and pro-keds |
Pouring beer on the curb for the dead |
I had to bring drama to some powder head |
(Freaky TAH) hey yo cut the music down |
Yo half the world thought the album failed in this 94 and its on. |
I’m smoking weed in 96' with my peeps |
Jetting from the police cause police they’se a bunch of creeps |
I’m testing off the new burners in the park |
We sleep during the day and creep when it’s dark |
I once had to cry when I seen Tyrone die |
This black on black crime I cram to understand why |
Baby girls having kids in their teens |
Young fellows baggy jeans slinging crack to the crack fiends |
That’s the type of lifestyle that I lead |
With my fams on the corner drinking beers and smoking weed |
Yo believe I been through all the struggles and the pain |
I’m ripping out my hairs and I can’t get to my brain |
I want the gold teeth and chains |
I hustle with timberland boots and rainsuits when it rains |
Fools make your moves pay dues |
Give up your cheese you loose my baby boy need shoes |
Stepping to the CHEEKS you made an error |
You been to the? |
house of pain? |
now welcome to my yard of terror |
What you think I’m some sucka |
Word to him I stomp you out with my tim chukkas |
Who who you stepping to the lost boy crew |
Boy get stomped that ass is through |
See we live the street life |
Smoking blunts with the wife stay on point like a … |
Every day on rockaway is getting hotta |
I can’t do what a want to I do what I gotta |
Survive I might not be around in 95 |
See I was taught young to be strong and just strive |
So nowadays we packing guns |
We racking grimy hills for funds and I stash all my sons mons |
A little man to look after |
Taking rap as a joke but I see no laughter |
To man Charles Suitte and big tig in Atlanta and Va… |