Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Only Real N...., artist - Soulja Slim. Album song Give It 2 'Em Raw, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Priority
Song language: English
Only Real N.... |
Soulja Slim |
Only for the real, niggas who I fuck with |
Know what I’m sayin'? |
REal niggas gon' feel this shit |
Cause its only who I fuck with |
Know what I’m sayin'? |
Show by hands |
Put 'em up in the air if you bout makin' dollars |
And you be bout this real shit |
That be to hard to swallow |
Come, follow? |
Me to the land |
The home of the soldiers |
If not committed they will cut throat ya |
Play brawl then go to |
Soldier streets but don’t sleeps |
And shots to knock ya off ya feet |
Specialise in assassinatin', all bustas who be soldier hatin' |
My bodygaurd is the Lord |
Mines in the back of my head |
My dogg, a born killa |
Treal nigga |
Been runnin' with me since I was small |
Alot of y’all probably know him, then again ya probably don’t |
Cause its sung to strugglin' that be ridin' |
With head biters in the trunk |
Elliotts name was double crosser |
He’ll double cross ya, when he woulda taught ya |
Told me not to get my hand dirty |
He’ll be my nigga tosser |
Tellin' me to do my rap thing |
No Limit bring me out there |
Just chill, and make my mills |
With my skills and keep it real |
That’s a, born killa |
1- A treal nigga |
2+3- Big time, dope dealer |
A real nigga, that get it how I live on it |
Fuck with born killas, dope dealers and real niggas |
Ill niggas, and treal niggas |
That get it how the live nigga |
Born killaz |
Dope dealers |
And treal niggas |
That get it how they live |
The real niggas, stay real |
And the fakes stay fake |
And you’s a busta type nigga |
Then stay the fuck outta my face |
Because I’m tryin' to stay busta free |
But y’all not hearin' me |
Its nuts or cuffs |
Get it how you live, on these city streets |
And every nigga roam |
Gotta be Bout It Bout It |
Niggas pourin' syrup in the game |
They not bein' solid |
And thats the busta type |
Niggas I can’t fuck with so I stay my distance |
And run with real soldiers that love me |
Only a handfull, duck and holler back |
Real niggas for sure got my back |
All about the combat |
All of the rest of 'em dead |
Bread, ridin' red |
A big dope dealer I used to fuck with doin' time in the vet |
No need to say his name, my nigga used to slang them thangs |
O-Z's and kilos |
Heard the smack mayne |
He used to give me grams |
Never wanted to give me weight |
He knew my habit, had me out there, he was goin' to get blazed |
I respect that by me bein' an addict |
I was, here I had to snort about half a gram to get me a buzz |
I got sent to the old jail, where alot of niggas don’t survive |
I rolled on the till bout a quarter of five |
Got up early in the mornin' |
Four feet up old mill |
Guess who till rep |
My dogg Cheer Will |
He gave me five scoops, cause I just rolled in |
But I gave that shit away |
Cause my head bone bent |
A murder charge in three attempts |
What the fuck you expectin'? |
I’m facin' life in prison, with a leathal injection |
But these dick suckin' DA’s |
They refuse the charge |
I rolled off B1, makin' boo-koo noise |
Screamin' those bitches can’t hold a Soulja like me down |
Then my pajamas, socks and T-shirts, with a tank from? |
town |
I ain’t stay out, cause thirty days |
I come right back in this bitch |
Probation violation, gotta do a year in six |
I bet you dick suckers won’t see me |
No mothafuckin' more |
I got big plans, ya understand? |
By slangin' lyrics like dope |
To all my people locked down, y’all be home in a second |
Just keep it real, and stay treal and make them bitches respect ya |
Chorus-3 till end |