| |
 |
MP3 Klingeltöne für Dein Handy
|
|
Interpret:
Tha Dogg Pound
|
| Reality
|
What is reality? Motherfuckers out here dont know shit They aint tryin to know shit Just a dumb motherfucker out here tryin to represent Get my motherfuckin paper You dont think so? Well then fuck you hoe Cause Im ridin on trucks, banked all that type of shit Gotta get paid motherfucker
[Kurupt] Fuck dreamin the same dreams, bein down for the same team When it seems to be reality is just a dream Eye to eye, the colors that I wear is do or die When I walk down the street, will I meet evil in disguise So, I tote a fo-fo with hollow tips While my mind tellin me should I not, or should I peel it? What I represent God only knows what lies for myself Jealousy and hatred niggaz is out for my wealth Will I perish? Later selfish for the rest of my life Cause those who live wrong is bound to live a short life Will money be the root of my destruction? Without the money I cant even seem to function
[Dat Nigga Daz] Now theres, nowhere, for me, to turn Theres nowhere for me to hide from reality As complex as the situation gets I remain I maintain, aint that much strain To make me twist myself like Kurt Cobain Ahh shit, I dont believe this Some niggaz that I fucked with tryin to pull a twist But aint that much twistin in existance And this is how you show me love It shows me exactly what moneys capable of Now is it that expenses that make you wanna catch me slippin and pay a visit, cause this is, for all my homies (all my homies) for jackers only Come twist, to the fools in L.A. that know me Im back with the fifth of Henn Kurupt and Dat Nigga Daz on the mash again
Now theres, nowhere, for me, to turn Theres nowhere for me to hide from reality (reality) *repeat 2X*
[Dat Nigga Daz] I give it to you like it is, got no time for no games in the world of madness, will my composure be the same Will my friends be around when they rush me in the ground a lost soul lost forever, never ever to be found Life aint what it seems, for the niggaz full of schemes on the hood full of cash dont wanna blast for the green These six bitches wanna get a nigga caught up for what, a simple nut, a simple fuck
[Kurupt] Daily it enhances the penetentiary chances to survive in nineteen ninety-five So I got nineteen ninety-five ways to survive nowadays Time and time again, I bust a rhyme again cause Ima get in deeper shit if I convert to crime again out to mentally convert me, the same niggaz out to hurt me It irks me, strenuous controversy Whats next on the list to complete after all this shit that popped off on the street And all eyes on me, but I wont change sides Cause what I represent I represent til I die (til I die) Its time for me, to grab a tall glass of (Hennesey, Hennesey)
[Tray Dee] Ya see my ways is to phase all them niggaz that try me Leave em layin stiff if they aint on IVs (beep, beep) I beez the hardest, regardless fool Livin life day and night stayin hard and cruel Keep my cool, until my mood abruptly switch Then Im on a niggaz ass like bumpy zits (thats right) Its no remorse when you cross my course Im not a hunter, but take a nigga out for sports Dont resorts, to thinkin you could get with this Or you will be a eulogy if you insist to diss Mista Tray Dee, from L.O.N.G. B.E.A.C.H., where the hardest gangstas be Twenty-first was the worstest turf on the earth Yet I feel I was meant to represent from birth til I die, you wonder why it aint no secret Motherfuckers best be in love with this G shit
Now theres, nowhere, for me, to turn Nowhere for me to hide from reality *3X in womans voice (Rage?)* *continues with variations* |
Eingetragen |
04.Oct.2001 20:10:52 |
Letzer Aufruf |
21.Dec.2004 11:12:23 |
Besucher |
117 |
|
|
|
|