Lyrics We to Real - Trae Tha Truth, Dyno, AB

We to Real

Texas style nigga feel that mayn, it’s going down down here mayn
Pulling out everything mayn, chrome nigga
On the cool, I know a lot of niggas hating us
But we too real, to let a nigga come and fuck with us
On the cool, I know a lot of niggas hating us
Fucking with Slow Loud And Bangin, and you’ll be in the dust
It’s a known fact I got a mouthpiece contaminated, niggas hate it knowing they
can’t fade it
Innovated by most of the real niggas on these streets, so we gon make it
You taking it oh no never, too clever and I got em in debter
Your t-shirt is finna get wetter, on the mic it don’t get no better
For Screw I’m finna mash the gas, passing niggas up moving slow
Nigga don’t know I can’t take no mo', running up on me you finna hit the flo'
From Trae to Lil B, J-A-T, Dougie D and AB and Jay’Ton
Be street niggas with a heart, you should of heard of me from the start
But my time coming up, better peep my game and learn something
Before your body’s we be dumping, that’s on my life and I ain’t bumping
On blue over grey swanger on 4's, running over foes
Letting out ten shots with a calico, just so a nigga don’t want no mo'
Southside Texas forever, representative in they face
Paper chasing on a steady pace, so block bleeding is my case
And I’m gon smash that, trying to get my last stack
And if you live that, nigga you gon feel that black
Man you niggas, don’t even understand
Fucking with us, have a scientific plan
Don’t hate the playa, hate the motherfucking game
You niggas mad, cause you can’t do the same
We work hard, for the things that we do
Niggas unlike you, we steady paying our dues
We creeping and crawling, your city getting riches
Posters and cards, and money over bitches
I’m a nigga that struggle and hustle, my pockets must gain a muscle
These bitch ass niggas I tussle, and then break em up like a puzzle
They bubble up and then bust, steady put they ass in a hearse
I’m a young ass nigga that’s cursed, with the life of a thug walking on turf
Lord have mercy these niggas gon bleed, cause Lil B gon give em what they need
S-L-A to the motherfucking B, we gon ride out till we D-I-E
Do you see you gon get ranned over, fucking around with a Southside S.L.A.B.
soldier
We the realest and I done already told ya, stealing the name when you know that
we colder
Yes the rap game we gon take over, ready to go just like a V-12 motor
Like a flip phone we might just fold ya, last one standing now nigga who’s
bolder
And colder in the game what’s the name, you better peep that nigga Slow Loud
And Bangin
Won’t ever change cause we hog the lane, running through all tracks still
gripping the grain
Niggas hate to see me turning on they corner, blowing marijuana
Paint red California, now candy green iguana
Valeted at Daytona, it be screens in my shutter
Smushing butter kush, and sipping drank out a funnel
Riding glass on a Caddy, deuce-deuces on a Navi
Honk my horn watching porn, and see which ethnic I’ll snatch me
Half black and Puerto-pachi, hoes be on my balls
Soft X in they life, just to tighten they jaws
Silent beam on the Glock, making all punks pause
P-A Benz with no top, got em saying aw naw
S dot W dot, gorilla nigga all out
To kill a nigga, spit a verse and peel a nigga