Real n*ggas lyrics

by

J.R. Writer


[Intro: Cam'ron]
Uh, Dipset, Jim Jones, Freekey
Aight, Santana man... Killa
Let's do it man (Killa)

[Verse 1: Cam'ron]
Ayo I argue with my mother, spring, summer, fall, winter time
"Get that off the table Cam'ron, it's dinner time"
I got a line downstairs ma, I'm in the grind
From ten to nine, you do your business right, let me attend to mine
You cooking pork anyway, I ain't into swine (at all)
"You out ya mind," nah, you don't know what's in my mind
I'ma surpass crack, move on to NASDAQ
But still my connects move anthrax on Amtraks

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
Ayo Cam before the cops rush, close the spot
Load the Glocks they stunting, we control the block
They frontin we throw 'em shots and laugh at 'em
Shots from the .44 magnum, that's how we get back at 'em
Trap 'em, grab 'em and clap at 'em (f*cka)
Yeah, I do this for my lost tribes and Africans
Who lost lives in battling, .45s and heckling
I believe in black soldiers, black clovers
Black roses on your grave, snakes and black cobras
Black vultures, rats, roaches, sleep now, the laugh's over..
f*cka
[Chorus: Cam'ron & Juelz Santana]
You can catch real n*ggas, doing some real things for real money
'Cause real n*ggas get money, real n*ggas don't snitch
Real n*ggas don't lie for a b*tch, real n*ggas get rich
Yeah, you can catch real n*ggas
Doing some real things for real money
Real n*ggas get money, real n*ggas don't snitch
Real n*ggas won't lie for a b*tch, real n*ggas get rich

[Verse 3: Juelz Santana]
Now how you losers want it? (Tell me)
We can either war out, or ball out I ain't used to fronting, holmes
I throw away 20s on boots and stuntin
Waste 50s, and abuse my hundreds, I'm getting money, yep (yep)
I spend thousands on the shoes for the coupe, it's nothing
Plus big trucking too, it's nothing

[Verse 4: Cam'ron]
I lick a shot so he know I meant it
His soldiers dented, so is his rented
Supreme soloist and still co-defendant
(And you notice) a mean motorist that blows the fifth on defendants
Since Roto-rooter to Motorola, yes sir I'm splendid
You see the furs and pendants
Aston Zagato, drop though, hitting curves like Emmitt
(from Europe) Smith, if you ain't get it, the fifth'll hit your fitted
Clips I get it spitted, flip your wig I really live it
[Verse 5: Jim Jones]
I'm this burgundy Benz, swervin B
As I'm watching the snow fall
I'm watching the heads they copping the coke y'all
And to the fiends and junkies, the broken dreams of drunkies (shut up b*tch)
Hoes with low-esteem, you know they scream on their monthlies
And to my soldiers rocking green in the country
Keep your dream and stay hungry
Let's get this cream and get money
Them haters wishing they could see my demise
Break my mom's heart: the grief in her eyes (faggots)
Man that eats me alive, roll the leaf and get high
This what keeps me alive (listen to me)
My Dip gang man, the peeps that'll ride
Over me the same peeps that'll die
(If it's beef, we will fry)

[Chorus: Cam'ron & Juelz Santana]
You can catch real n*ggas, doing some real things for real money
'Cause real n*ggas get money, real n*ggas don't snitch
Real n*ggas don't lie for a b*tch, real n*ggas get rich
Yeah, you can catch real n*ggas
Doing some real things for real money
Real n*ggas get money, real n*ggas don't snitch
Real n*ggas won't lie for a b*tch, real n*ggas get rich
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net