Tytuł: For Real

• Wykonawca: Scarface
• Wyświetleń: 269

[verse 1:]
  
  I got this coffee pot of white soap
  stuck my hanger down the center
  when I entered I spent it cause it was like dope
  But on the real-a he was jackin' me for scratch
  cause out of 36 ounces this motherfucker brought me 20 back
  I'm slanging 20 sacs cause I done lost 16
  and these goddamn streets aint going to bring me back
  Now could it be the southside big baller
  Bolo rock slanger stones done got slaughtered-damn
  I'm going up on my whole thangs
  And stepped on don't go runnin my clique cause it's a old game
  And all I ever wanted was some hundred stacks
  I went from slangin' o-z's to movin' hundred sacks
  Gotta make my money back
  Cause I done came too far up in these goddamn streets
  to get my money snatched
  I'm so for real about this motherfuckin skrill
  that any obstacle obscuring my paper is gettin' killed
  For real
  
  [chorus: ]
  (scratching and mixing)
  All I have is this small skrilla
  
  [verse 2:]
  
  I know this nigga run this game of life
  So motherfuckin sheist that at night he got to sleep with lights
  Cause he done come across with shit so shade
  that mutha fuckers comin with clips to locate him
  Aint no waitin and once they spot him they gon' sure face him
  and once the got him they gon' sure waste him
  This aint no mutha fuckin joke nigga it aint worth it
  and even if your mother gets in it you cant surface
  It was all purpose
  just like that bullshit you was serving it was all purpose
  We all chipped in nigga and we all hurting
  I gots to grind just like in eighty-nine
  when a niggas 25 cent pieces look just like baby dimes
  I'm on the corner selling whole eights
  I don't remember being this fuckin paranoid since I sold weight
  I went from 50 sacs to 50 packs
  And all because this motherfucker got jipped he wants to jip me back
  But when I find him I'm gon finalize him
  Just to let a nigga know I'm for real and down to die for mine
  And I'm for real about this mutha fuckin skrill
  that any obstacle obscuring my paper is gettin killed
  For real
  
  [chorus]
  
  [verse 3:]
  
  Game made to be swift since eighty-six when I started
  Seems like niggas with hustle got outsmarted
  Cause now they wanna analyze they homies for scratch
  Catch them when they sleeping come down and up scrap
  And even though I plotted hittin' niggas for ends
  I never took out straps and shot gats at friends
  It was all about being for real where I was from
  Where very few niggas came real but I was one
  I dedicate this to my homies stuck in battle
  Living life being caught up in this mutha fuckin' gamble
  The game made to be changed but the niggas still started
  Cocaine seems to be blamed for the niggas gettin slaughtered
  How many times you had your homie shot
  By the same mutha fucker whose game came from your homies block
  Niggas get caught up in the paper chase
  and lose respect for the game
  that was honored before the cake was made
  
  [chorus]