Real Bad Boys lyrics

by

Shyheim


[Intro]
It's real, did you ever see that type of n*gga
Who don't be nobody
I'm talkin about blood clot, he ain't squat
Like the muthaf*cka from high school that everybody forgot
While you was gettin chopped and dropped
I was blowin up the spot
Speedin to the top, like a speed knot
Gettin more props than Jamaica got weed spots
I got this paper or not
For the love of hoes and designer clothes
Cuz I got more hoes, than..
You just dodo
While you was

The world iz mine!!!
Ah! Yo
1995 (world iz mine)

[Hook]
Screw on the silencers, screw on the silencers
Cuz real bad boys move in silence
Screw on the silencers, screw on the silencers
Cuz real bad boys move in silence

[Verse 1]
I stash butterflie knives and 45's in ma garments
f*ck n*gga, I take a pus*y god quick
Peep ma stee in the streets well respected
Like the rectomatic dime bags of the Method, Zee
Bomb on heads like what kid
I keep 'em on slow mo son I'm the champion to boy don't run
I make it death fun when I kill ya
I take a power driller and drill it right through ya liver
Ha, Ha, Ha
I'm ruthless possesed by the devil
f*ck fire pa' I'm on a hole other level
Tha mess tablets make ya mind flick
Ma murdarous styles I kick make female groupies lick the di*k
Word to the muva, I put this on tour wicked
The first that fakin I'mma lace 'em and dislocate 'em
Real n*ggas do real things youknowhatImean ?
The first to fake the gangsta lean get throwned in the fiend
Killa Kane where ya at ?
G.P. be packin' gats, runnin', nah son it won't be none a that
The clips who fat plus long, I love doin' wrong
Plus killin' copperz is Ma favourite song
[f*ck tha police]

[Hook] repeat 2X

[Verse 2]
I roll with criminals, coldbloody murderers, drug hustlaz, suburban areas
I know ya heard of us
Big up, big up to ma n*ggas in the bricks
Bad boys, you stings on the hucious tip
I brush you sh*t quick phoney G'z won't call
I make it, happen like God test me if ya wanna die Lord
I wear black to keep ma I.D. on the low
I'm all about makin' dough at the fast tempo
f*ck shootin' up sh*t that only makes the spot hot
And we don't need the booshaa, blast the blood clot!!!
Say word! [Word!!!] Word iz bond [ Word iz bond!!!!]
Load tha gats up son cuz once again it's on
n*ggas must be thinkin' that I'm sweet a somethin'
I ain't frontin, word to life, I murder somethin'!!
Ha, Ha, Ha
f*ck y'all crab n*ggas
Bring it to me
Word up
I like this

[Hook] repeat 2X

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