Testo Shit Iz Real - Shyheim
Testo della canzone Shit Iz Real (Shyheim), tratta dall'album The Lost Generation
Yeah yeah, hah
Where all my niggaz at?
We up in here, what?
Word up, all my peoples
Crim-criminals in the penile
Where ya at? cats sacking green
Bill hill clinton
It be real when I pack a steel
Everyman for himdelf, send my love to a battlefield
Aint no wack, its a straight up fact
Or dip down in black once you hear the clap clap
Shit iz real, ain't no time to cash no butterflies
Pass the st. ide's
Screwface is my disguise so look me in my eyes that ain't wise
The first chump that jumps is the first chump that dies
Raw, spell that backward that's war
Lay low scarecrow I'm knockin at your front door
Pointin a pistol to your peekhole, pussy
Warning: my trigga finga gets busy
Blaow, a single shot straight to the headpiece
Decrease the peace and watch the murders increase
See I'm ruthless, pistol whip a nigga toothless
Me gettin hit that shit is ludicrous
I'm on my p's and my q's
Try to put your foot in my shoes kid, you gotta pay the fuckin dues
I ain't the one to play pammy
I leave the head all red like that little orphan annie
I'm dressed in black like streets of harlem
Paddle punk's pockets down with no problem
And get away just like an unsolved mystery
You don't believe me g, check my pedigree
And you can feel how I deal with the muthafuckin steel
Ain't no game boy, it's real
Shit iz real, it be real when I pack a steel
Everyman for himdelf, send my love to a battlefield
Aint no wack, its a straight up fact
Or dip down in black once you hear the clap clap
Shit iz real, it be real when I pack a steel
Everyman for himdelf, send my love to a battlefield
Aint no wack, its a straight up fact
Or dip down in black once you hear the clap clap
Shit iz real, I'm in some real shit
Niggaz wet up the lab, ma dukes got hit
Now they knew I was trying to give em what I owe em
But now I gotta act like I don't know em
The muthafuckers violated to the fullest degree
They did it smart, now they gotta see me
And i'ma flip like an acrobat, to give them bastards back
And let them know where my head is at
I pack a cannon, I know where them thugs be standin
Near the stores, with them hip hop whores
And there I was all dipped and fatigued
Goin rambo, g.i. joe of a dolo
Droppin bodies, bodies they was droppin
Like rain from a blackman that went insane
They dissed my earth I had to diss they whole universe
Blew up the block, stepped back and watched it burst
Niggaz was runnin, I was steady gunnin em down
They hittin the ground from the impact of the four pound
Some kids tried to dip in the whip, I emptied the clip
And watched a car do a fuckin flip
Reloaded at the same time the car exploded
Spotted a gangsta bitch, told her to hold it
It only took five secs for she squealed, blaka blaka
Two shots to the twat, shit iz real
It be real when I pack a steel
Everyman for himdelf, send my love to a battlefield
Aint no wack, its a straight up fact
Or dip down in black once you hear the clap clap
It be real when I pack a steel
Everyman for himdelf, send my love to a battlefield
Aint no wack, its a straight up fact
Or dip down in black once you hear the clap clap
Credits
Writer(s): Bernard Jackson, Arby Tyrone Quinn, Robert Briggs, Shyheim Franklin, Edward Townsend
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Altre canzoni dell'album
Dear God (featuring Pop "The Brown Hornet")
Jiggy Comin'
5 Elements (featuring Rubbabandz, Pop "The Brown Hornet," Down Low Reka, Junelover)
Shaolin Style (featuring Squig)
Real Bad Boys
What Makes The World Go Round (featuring Trigger, Rubbabandz, Smoothe Da Hustler, Dzalias Christ)
Can You Feel It
Life As A Shorty
Don't Front/Let's Chill (featuring Lamisha Grinstead and Keemeelah Williams)