Real n*ggaz lyrics

by

Method Man & Redman


[Intro: Icarus]
Yeah, now, now—is you motherf*ckers ready for this? (C'mon)
Do you really think you ready for this? (C'mon)
Do you know that you ready for this, huh?
We gon' see if you ready for this

[Verse 1: Scarface]
I be the street sweeper n*gga
Quick to leave your whole block shook and shot at
From f*ckin round with the mi-dack
Eleven, twenty-four, AK 47
f*ck who's standin' around them get close up and down and
I done came here to get brains
Shoot you twice in your stomach
Then leave your boxer shorts full of sh*t stains
You're b*tch-made, you ain't a gangsta, you a sucker ass
These n*ggas scared of your bark {*barkin*} but b*tch I touch ass
And bust back, what's that?
It's Face-mob in effect
With Icarus, Reggie, Jamal and Treach
I told you that talkin' wasn't sh*t to me
So b*tch, be more specific when you spit for me
"It ain't sh*t to me"
You a ho in a fifth degree
A discharge from a di*k disease
You lil' maggot, part time thug for a faggot
Plastic-ass chump, you don't want no static
[Hook: Redman]
Real n*ggas—louder
Real n*ggas—louder—louder!
Real n*ggas—yo
Real n*ggas

[Verse 2: Redman]
Yo, yo, yo
It's Funk Doc—I thought you knew
PPP in the back, and they parkin' too (Jump!)
Thorough borough, Bricks, ashy elbow kid
I f*ck chicks off Elmo flicks
My tape is off safety, tongue the gun
Mouth to barrel, I spit, it numbs the front
(So, what'cha—what'cha want?) Yo, my boys is beasty
We grew up untamed, unemployed, and eatin'
You sharks in the water, avoid the deep end
We only f*ck chicks that enjoys the beatings
Young Ike Turners, disco infern-ers
Concentration camp, nobody turn up
I roll up a 'X' that came with kits
Leave you with "Nightmares" Dana Dane was with (niiight-marrres)
I can train yo' b*tch with a chain and whip
Ic, blow the block down while I change the clip

[Verse 3: Icarus]
Yo, don't approach me wrong, little kids call me Smokey-mon
Cause the blunts that I light set off smoke alarms {*beep beep*}
And I stand on the corner 'til my coke is gone
n*ggas wanna get they ice picks, poke the don
But they know I got a gun big as Oprah's arm
And I know a old lady that'll choke they moms
A attitude, that's what I don't walk without
n*gga I'mma time for it, you just talk about
Ic' is the man, and I never been to Japan
Got a Japanese b*tch with my di*k in her hand
This is the plan, I'm about to get in the van
Go and get rid of the man, I done did it again
Skunk I blow, then off to the trunk I go
Pull the pump out slow, dump out fo'
I'm the n*gga that the streets raised
I'm the n*gga that'll make 3-ways outta n*gga PJ's
The n*gga that'll smack the sh*t out the DJ
If he don't give Icarus' sh*t a replay
Poker flush, y'all n*ggas joke too much
And my gun got cancer, it smoke too much, we...
[Hook: Redman]
Real n*ggas—louder
Real n*ggas—louder—louder!
Real n*ggas—yo
Real n*ggas

[Verse 4: Jamal]
First of all, you gotta have balls, unlike some who act hard
I was real ever since I shot out my pop's black balls
I'm real, I can sense danger and tap calls
I'm real, I feel when haters wanna clap 'Mal
I look a n*gga eye to eye when I speak
I'm transparent, I can see if you a killer or a freak
Or a b*tch that'll do anything to get rich
Or a snitch that'll drop dime on the click
Or a fake, that'd rather see me at my wake
Or a Jake tryin to infilitrate, give me a case
I'm real like, b*tch, get the f*ck out my face
I'm real like let me stick my di*k in ya mouth, give you a taste
I'm a real n*gga if I don't get no bigger
I'm five-five, still knockin' out tall n*ggas
We real n*ggas plottin' on dummies with tall figures
Real n*ggas hands on forty caliber triggers
Bullets hummin', real like Redman's fifth coming...

[Verse 5: Treach]
Trigger Treach!
bast*rds, blunts, buddhas, bullets, black gats is the lingo!
f*ck a jolly jingle, old b*tches break for Bingo
Christmas time I crack yak and Kris with Kringle
Gettin funk from nymphos and scratch my nuts with yo' single
Who's the gay scratcher, minus the rap masters?
Name is Kay, with "the gay G" after
My thugs on the street with the heat, listen to me
See them diamond D.M. medallions—snatch! You give 'em to me
Mally G's a part of me
Icky slips his own self mickies in crowded armories
f*ck with Redman you're a dead man at the robbery
You'll be (?) Adebisi greasy put him on to me, f*ck that!
I'm a throwin' flames fanatic, bashin' brains, come at it
Beat you with the sh*t that they used to frame the attic
Your skank-ass go voo-doo, poodle-wig wearin rashy
Rusty and trusty, musty-wack-nasty
[Skit]

[Reporter]
Once again in the Bricks! Chris Tricarico reporting live from WKYA radio!
Where I find myself in a bit of a snafu
Oh, I see a gentleman in the corner who may be able to help me
Excuse me! Sir? Ah, pardon me! Maybe you didn't hear me, I'm talking to you!
I'm looking for the 9 8!

[Man 1]
Yo man, you 5 0?

[Reporter]
No, I'm not 5 0, I'm looking for the 9 8, that's all!

[Man 1]
Man, that's 89, man. Whatchu talking about, man?

[Man 2]
Ayo, [?] that n*gga, man
That n*gga po-po!

[Reporter]
No, I'm not po-po, I just...
Can I get some uh-huh?

[Man 2]
I, I see that n*gga there! [?]
I'm telling you!

[Man 1]
Uh-huh, man? Ain't no uh-huh, man

[Reporter]
Ah, forget it. It's getting too hostile in here

[Man 3]
Ayo man, who the f*ck is this n*gga, man?

[Man 2]
Ay man, word is bond, that n*gga was f*ckin with [?], I'm telling you, but

[Man 3]
Ayo man, get the f*ck-

(Gunshots)

[Reporter]
Ah! It's getting too violent! Chris Tricarico, WKYA radio, signing off!
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