Lyrics Real Talk (Pop's Song) - Mathematics

Real Talk (Pop's Song)

Ok, I’m sayin’man
They sayin', Pop, man, they
They sayin’that you singin’too much, man
They sayin’man, that, you know
They don’t think you got the rapping skill no more
Man, you can’t hold it down on the streets
Man, you too much, focused on the ladies
Nah, God, I’ve been rappin', I just took a little break, man
You know, everybody’s rappin’now, knowhatimsayin'
I’m mean, damn, huh?
You got a lotta rappers, but how many rappers is ill
How many rappers you know in platinum and touched the mill
How many rappers you know that’s nice, without a deal
How many rappers pumpin’the things, that I can’t feel
How many rappers up in that Source, with 5 mics
How many rappers you know that’s rhymin', sound a like
How many rappes is kickin’rhymes, they didn’t write
Talkin’that thug shit, and really can’t fight
How many rappers that wanna step to me, and get ate up Many rappers I done battled, made 'em all shut up Ooh, I’m not the best, I’m one of the best
Get it off your chest, don’t hold your breathe
I’mma be that nigga, to show niggaz in hip hop
Who’s hot and whose not, and one of the best is Pac
Ooh, I’m not the best, I’m on the best
And they sayin’that… you ain’t ill, nigga
I can’t see that, what you did to me, man
That shit got me fucked up, knowhatimsayin?
I’m like, shit, this nigga’s the hottest nigga in the game, right now
I’m the man
You got a lot rappers, then you get out the game quick
Talkin’that same shit, that lame shit, like
We give a fuck about your chains, and your whips
And your rollie, and how icey your shit is Nigga, talk about that, pain that it really is That’s for my niggaz locked up, my thugs on the block
With the glocks up, wanna hear
That shit you talkin', was played out last year
You fuckin’clown, cuz of you
Nigga that don’t even rhyme, wanna rhyme now
Get in the game and twist it around
See what you did, I should kill you on th strength of Pac and Big
Cuz them niggaz loved and lived and died for this shit
Hear you come, playin’with this, talkin’how you been rich
You was never poor, never been through a struggle
But never seen no bars, quit screamin’you’re hardcore
Or star like bar, somebody gon’fuck around and call your bluff
Allow the gat, and me like «nigga what»
You gon’be like… yo yo, hold up man
All I’m sayin’is, I was just gettin’jigged
Spittin’out blood, knowhatimean
Man talkin’about, this nigga don’t spit
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck
He speakin’a different fuckin’language?
These niggaz is not listenin’man, pay attention
What the fuck, and ooh, and ohh
Oh shout out to my nigga 50
For hollerin’at your boy, yeah
That oooh… haha, yeah, real talk, nigga