| Dip Set, Jim Jones, Freeky
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| Aight Santana man let’s do this
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| Killa, let’s do it man, killa
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| Aiyyo, I argue with my mother
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| Spring, summer, fall and winter time
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| Get that off the table Cam’ron it’s dinner time
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| (What?)
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| I got a line downstairs ma, I’m in the grind
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| From ten to nine, you do your business right
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| Let me attend to mine
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| You cooking pork anyway, I ain’t into to swine
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| (At all)
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| You out ya mind, nah
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| You don’t know what’s in my mind
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| I’ma surpass crack, move on to Nasdaq
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| But still my connects move anthrax on Amtrak
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| Aiyyo, Cam before the cops rush, close the spot
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| Load the Glocks they stuntin', we control the block
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| They frontin' we throw them shots and laugh at 'em
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| Shoots from the 4−4 magnum, that’s how we get back at 'em
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| Trap 'em, grab 'em and clap at 'em
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| Yeah, I do this for my lost tribes and Africans
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| Who lost lives in battling, 4−5s and hacklin'
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| I believe in black soldiers, black covers
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| Black roses on your grave
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| Snakes and black cobras
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| Black vultures, rats, roaches
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| Sleep now, they laughs over
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| Fucka
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| You can catch real niggas
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| Doing some real things, for real money
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| 'Cause real niggas get money, real niggas don’t snitch
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| Real niggas don’t lie for a bitch, real niggas get rich
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| You can catch real niggas
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| Doing some real things, for real money
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| 'Cause real niggas get money, real niggas don’t snitch
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| Real niggas don’t lie for a bitch, real niggas get rich
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| Now how you losers want it
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| (Tell me)
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| We can war out or ball out
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| I used to frontin', holmes
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| I throw away 20s on boots and stuntin'
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| Waste 50s and abuse my hundreds
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| I’m getting money, yep, I spend thousands
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| On the shoes for the coup it’s nothing
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| Plus big truckin' too it’s nothing
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| I lick a shot so he know I meant it
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| His soldiers dented, so is his rented
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| Supreme soloist and still co-defendant
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| And you notice, a mean motorist that blows the fifth on defendants
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| Since roota-rooda, yes the Motorola yes sir I’m splendid
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| You see the furs and pendants, Austin Sigoto, drop though
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| Hitting curves like Emitt Smith
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| (From Europe)
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| If you ain’t get it, the fifth will hit your fitted
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| Clips I get it spitted, flip your wig I really lift it
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| I’m this burgundy Benz, swervin' B
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| As I’m watching the snow fall
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| I’m watching the heads they copping the coke y’all
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| And to the fiends and junkies, the broken dreams of drunkies
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| Hoes with low esteem, you know they scream on their monthly
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| (Shut up bitch)
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| And to my soldiers rocking green in the country
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| Keep your dean and stay hungry, let get this cream and get money
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| Them haters wishing they could see my demise
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| Break my moms heart, the grief in her eyes
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| Man that eats me alive, let’s roll this weed and get high
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| This what keep me alive
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| (Listen to me)
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| My Dip Gang man, they the peeps that’ll ride
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| Over me the same peeps that have died
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| If it’s me that catch you, you’re fried
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| You can catch real niggas
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| Doing some real things, for real money
|
| 'Cause real niggas get money, real niggas don’t snitch
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| Real niggas don’t lie for a bitch, real niggas get rich
|
| You can catch real niggas
|
| Doing some real things, for real money
|
| 'Cause real niggas get money, real niggas don’t snitch
|
| Real niggas don’t lie for a bitch, real niggas get rich |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Real Ni***s, artist - The Diplomats. Album song Cam'Ron Presents The Diplomats - Diplomatic Immunity, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп