The Real lyrics

[P.G.]
Hurry up, let's go, take all his riches
That's what I used to learn from these older misses
You gotta, stop, c*ck and roll with mister
Flip, flop, my robes from dub to misses
Only run with real dudes, with the guns for sticking
Big di*ks for sticking, fat tongues for licking
The type you like, she can have all my riches
Pretty Girl, you thorough, cancel all my business
Like to stick my pretty two's, but known to get stitches
Since a young girl, I've been grown up figures
Little older now, and I'm getting grandfather figures
More grands, than the grams, my poppa was sniffing
Laid up, slumped up, is how we leaving these n*ggas
Turned up, cooked up, like turnips in momma's kitchen
Burned up, like n*ggas banging dirty b*tches
There's many ways, with a kiss, blazing n*ggas

[Chorus 2X: P.G. (Streets)]
Real recognize real, we known to spill
(Get back, flip tracks, been known to peel)
With hoes and fake n*ggas like Kodak film
(Kill tracks, murk beats, and we'll take your deal)

[Streets]
It's real, kid, I'm that chick
Time to recognize who she runs with
Spit, bars, I'm so sweet
Gutter langer by the name of Streets
Son get soaked when by myself
Heavyweight b*tch, I hold the belts
I, rip tracks, yes, she's hot
I, run them Streets, I run blocks
I, keep my heat, don't f*ck with cops, no
Tell Diddy, I won't stop, no
Time to cop, so step your game up
The reason why these fellas open
From rags to roaches, we've been had though
Been smoked that 'dro, beef for a ho
Holla, come on now, b*tch, I know my work
Who you talking to b*tch, yo, I sold myself
[Chorus 2X]

[Streets]
Been enemy of the state since I was born
Trying to make some moves like Farrakhan
Trying to see the world before I'm gone
Spitting over Buddha's beats in Brooklyn

[P.G.]
Yo, I'm caging n*ggas, I'm flaming n*ggas
Like drag queens in parades on Thanksgiving, n*ggas
Uh, it's real with no deal, I'm hiding man for n*ggas
Like mixtapes in the hood, over instrumentals

[Streets]
Why, yo, we move in silence
Nowhere, to run, nowhere to hide
b*tch, keep that thing, by my sidekick
You jack and laid off to bust a nut

[P.G.]
Uh, feel it in your guts, you know what's up, and what's what
Get bucked, fired up, light it up, it's a must
Cuz, we be the chicks, n*ggas cannot touch
Chicken mimic how we spit, stop riding us
[Chorus 4X]