Informazioni sulla canzone In questa pagina puoi trovare il testo della canzone Real Talk, artista - Juelz Santana. Data di rilascio: 28.01.2015
Limiti di età: 18+
Linguaggio delle canzoni: inglese
Real Talk |
| Red set, blue set, mac 10s a few tecs |
| My killas on the payroll will leave your whole crew wet |
| You been in the house nigga you ain’t paid dues yet |
| I been in the streets nigga you ain’t heard the news yet |
| Before I hit the grind I make fo sure I got my shit tight |
| My vest fit right, 4 fifth it’d spit right |
| Niggas I’m number one I can’t settle for less |
| Hands down I’m the hottest young thug on the West |
| Niggas sayin' I’m the balla back when his name was scurs |
| When they used to push caine on the curb, before the birds |
| We used to hustle together, this that and the third |
| But we ain’t never broke bread together cause youse a nerd |
| I move things cross the border |
| So playboy hurry up and place your order (nigga) |
| I teach you how to get rich |
| Flip bricks and get chips |
| Holla at the kid nigga if you need a quick fix |
| I turn a G into a key, man I mean real fast |
| Before I had a deal I already had a mill stashed |
| Street life I keep ice on my wrist playa |
| If you tryna score big well here’s an assist playa |
| We young balla ballas |
| Young hustla hustlas |
| We bout them dollas bitch |
| We don’t fuck with bustas, suckers |
| We got big rings, big thangs, big chains |
| We hustle hard in the streets and move big caine |
| Cross game, wrist put your wig man |
| Cause we ain’t afraid to die and do a bid man |
| Feel more the Harlem we ballin you underdig man |
| This is real talk and that’s what it is man |
| I heard niggas tryna shit on me |
| And make history, never woulda happen |
| Forever I’m gat clappin |
| I grabbed the Beretta or black Magnum |
| Asked what’s the problem and dead 'em in that fashion |
| Am I waiting? Hell no |
| Am I playing? Hell no |
| Does this here look like the David Chappelle show? |
| My 12 load clip shells gon spit |
| I take off your head quicker than a velcro strip |
| Old school, see how my shell toes fit? |
| Dip places, big faces, sell all hit (call me) |
| And I’m quick with the led |
| You think my bullets had krazy glue |
| The way them shits stick to your head (nigga) |
| If you ain’t getting my bread |
| If you ain’t getting my spread |
| You’ll be dead where the pigeons get fed (punk) |
| We young balla ballas |
| Young hustla hustlas |
| We bout them dollas bitch |
| We don’t fuck with bustas, suckers |
| We got big rings, big thangs, big chains |
| We hustle hard in the streets and move big caine |
| Cross game, wrist put your wig man |
| Cause we ain’t afraid to die and do a bid man |
| Feel more the Harlem we ballin you underdig man |
| This is real talk and that’s what it is man |
| While you been sleeping on the kid like a craftmatic |
| I was in the streets not thinkin bout rap, serving them crack addicts |
| I got a black gadget, that’ll make a nigga disappear quick |
| You would think I knew black magic |
| And when it comes to hoes, I don’t have to pay |
| I’m on my Oakland Raider shit in all black and gray |
| Yeah I’m bringin back The Bay, but before I do that |
| I gotta OT and bring back the shay |
| You couldn’t see me playa, on my worst day |
| And the last time you seen some cake, was on your birthday |
| You old niggas mad cause I’m young and I’m paid |
| The only smoke of dime a day, I’m blowing tons of that haze |
| And I’m doing the same thing, that got Pac and Biggie rich |
| I was born ready to die, on that Biggie shit |
| Trying to keep up with me, you’ll be running for days |
| And the only bird you got, is that one in the cage |
| Nigga I’ll show you how to cook a O |
| And that main bitch you keep calling wifey, I call her a hooker ho |
| I’m like Rick James |
| Yeah I’m rich bitch, so after I’m done with you |
| Yeah my whole clique hits |
| Achoo, I got the flu man I spit sick |
| And if I didn’t, I still know how to flip bricks |
| I turn a gram into a million |
| I’m still grinding on my block |
| Even though this camera’s on the building |
| So bust me how you cent for |
| I’m in the hood with two big 9s on me like the 99 cent store, nigga |
| True story, real talk, Sky Balla, Juelz Santana, bitch! |
| We young balla ballas |
| Young hustla hustlas |
| We bout them dollas bitch |
| We don’t fuck with bustas, suckers |
| We got big rings, big thangs, big chains |
| We hustle hard in the streets and move big caine |
| Cross game, wrist put your wig man |
| Cause we ain’t afraid to die and do a bid man |
| Feel more the Harlem we ballin you underdig man |
| This is real talk and that’s what it is man |