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