作曲 : Tracy Morrow/Richard Ascencio
Yo, what's up with all these ******s
On these mutha******' records talkin' all this bull*******t
I ain't tryin' to hear that *******t, man
These ******* ain't players, man
Peace to my street ******s movin' that weight
Much love to my comrades who's out in upstate
Mad connections from the bottom to the top of the game
Street fame,
I got much that's in touch with my name
Got a overload of guns to unload on a lame ****** trippin'
Wake up my posse, interrup' the
Rémy sippin'
Four in your back and keep bailin'
Listen to the
HK wailin' and your vital signs failin'
Everyone that ever met me knows
I work ******* like ******s, pimp ******s like hoes
Command a mack that's immaculate, your girl's naked
You think she ain't been hit, kid yo, you best to check it
For ten years
I been connected to the top of this
Hold your breath, kid,
I'm never droppin' this
Too busy rollin' off them fat chrome rims
And ******s who trip get sung hymns
We crash clubs and security *******ts'
Cause they know they got size but they know we keep clips
Crazy mutha******as lickin' shots in doors
Leavin' suckers' bodies bleedin' over nightclub floors
You don't want none, son, stay gone
Break north when
I come and you might live long
Yeah, my face kickin' treble, you're just a pebble
You're gettin' rocked, yo,
E, ****** the glock
And let these ******s know, yo, that the west don't play none
Fire shoots out of my strap like a ray-gun
You broke ill and you cold ****** up
Now you're bleedin' through your fingers while you're holdin' your gut
So get your money how you want to, friend
But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win
The game of life is only fake and true
But it's all about the dollars when the day is through
Get your money how you want to, friend
But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win
The game of life is only fake and true
But it's all about the dollars when the day is through
It's the return of the real
Return of the real
I go deep into the street life's anatomy
A ****** take me out, yo, what a upset that'd be
And if I fall
I fall on cu*******ons, [Incomprehensible]
Hittin' ******s up with the tec and watch the blood gu*******n'
I see your videos, a 100 ******s in it you don't know
Framed in the lens, bought friends
Who really got your back, ******, check it out
You really possess like zero street clout
The only place you're safe is in the studio
Yellin' in the mic, you'se a *******, that's right
I take a ****** like you and make him ********** cute
So what you got a gun, punk, you're scared to shoot
You front hardcore, but
I don't feel ya
Kids from my hood'll take your punk ass and peel ya
Let me check my
Rolex quick because time's money
Squintin' from the pavet face because it's kinda sunny
Skinnin' the top back, flossin' the rag and the thing
Feelin' the sun, backin' off of my pinky ring
Hittin' the '
Shaw with my ******s and clown
Lift the ass, hit the switch, raise the front off the ground
But most of the time you can't see a ******
Deep in the archives parlayin' new ways to get my bank bigger
So get your money how you want to, friend
But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win
The game of life is only fake and true
But it's all about the dollars when the day is through
So get your money how you want to, friend
But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win
The game of life is only fake and true
But it's all about the dollars when the day is through
It's the return of the real
作曲 : Tracy Morrow/Richard Ascencio
Yo, what's up with all these ******s
On these mutha******' records talkin' all this bull*******t
I ain't tryin' to hear that *******t, man
These ******* ain't players, man
Peace to my street ******s movin' that weight
Much love to my comrades who's out in upstate
Mad connections from the bottom to the top of the game
Street fame,
I got much that's in touch with my name
Got a overload of guns to unload on a lame ****** trippin'
Wake up my posse, interrup' the
Rémy sippin'
Four in your back and keep bailin'
Listen to the
HK wailin' and your vital signs failin'
Everyone that ever met me knows
I work ******* like ******s, pimp ******s like hoes
Command a mack that's immaculate, your girl's naked
You think she ain't been hit, kid yo, you best to check it
For ten years
I been connected to the top of this
Hold your breath, kid,
I'm never droppin' this
Too busy rollin' off them fat chrome rims
And ******s who trip get sung hymns
We crash clubs and security *******ts'
Cause they know they got size but they know we keep clips
Crazy mutha******as lickin' shots in doors
Leavin' suckers' bodies bleedin' over nightclub floors
You don't want none, son, stay gone
Break north when
I come and you might live long
Yeah, my face kickin' treble, you're just a pebble
You're gettin' rocked, yo,
E, ****** the glock
And let these ******s know, yo, that the west don't play none
Fire shoots out of my strap like a ray-gun
You broke ill and you cold ****** up
Now you're bleedin' through your fingers while you're holdin' your gut
So get your money how you want to, friend
But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win
The game of life is only fake and true
But it's all about the dollars when the day is through
Get your money how you want to, friend
But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win
The game of life is only fake and true
But it's all about the dollars when the day is through
It's the return of the real
Return of the real
I go deep into the street life's anatomy
A ****** take me out, yo, what a upset that'd be
And if I fall
I fall on cu*******ons, [Incomprehensible]
Hittin' ******s up with the tec and watch the blood gu*******n'
I see your videos, a 100 ******s in it you don't know
Framed in the lens, bought friends
Who really got your back, ******, check it out
You really possess like zero street clout
The only place you're safe is in the studio
Yellin' in the mic, you'se a *******, that's right
I take a ****** like you and make him ********** cute
So what you got a gun, punk, you're scared to shoot
You front hardcore, but
I don't feel ya
Kids from my hood'll take your punk ass and peel ya
Let me check my
Rolex quick because time's money
Squintin' from the pavet face because it's kinda sunny
Skinnin' the top back, flossin' the rag and the thing
Feelin' the sun, backin' off of my pinky ring
Hittin' the '
Shaw with my ******s and clown
Lift the ass, hit the switch, raise the front off the ground
But most of the time you can't see a ******
Deep in the archives parlayin' new ways to get my bank bigger
So get your money how you want to, friend
But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win
The game of life is only fake and true
But it's all about the dollars when the day is through
So get your money how you want to, friend
But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win
The game of life is only fake and true
But it's all about the dollars when the day is through
It's the return of the real
