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Interpret:
Young Zee
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| That S My Nigga Fo Real
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[Young Zee]
Uh, Zee
I got waiting haze, my customers hos, sleep with me
We have small beef, I still sell them Os for three fifty
They know in big beef, I pop a hundred times
Be like roadkill, I live niggas brains on one and nines
And my down bitches, they be ready to kill
I be like chill, they be like..
[Chorus]
Thats my nigga for real (Yea, uh huh, Im from the Bricks, we be like)
Thats my nigga for real (Yea, Young Zee, all my niggas from the hood, they be like)
Thats my nigga for real (Yea, B-Boy, you my nigga, talk to em)
[B-Boy]
Yo, I dont give a fuck if we dont sell a record
We still gon get this money in the Bricks
Spill it, Zee
[Young Zee]
Yea, uh, yea, yea
Im like, Santa Claus, I deliver niggas grams a raw
Straight from Panama, fiends eat it up like canavaugh
And my dimes disappear like magic wands
I sell em, til the crack of dawn and destroy every track Im on
Plus I have a clam packed in the back of vans
More royal than the Taliban murk you for a half a gram
(What?) I get B-Boy to drop your truck in the river
Fuck some dough, we be like..
[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]
[Young Zee]
Yea, jeah, Uh-huh-ha, yea
Scarecrow (what?), Im trying to walk before I crawl
I want it all ever since I came out of my mamas walls
Im trying to make so much dough when I write a song
I can write em all why yall clique on the corner selling final calls
Yea, niggas mad at us, gladiators like Maximas, we fabulous
While you fall off like Canibuss managers
My man Dee U, keep the nina peelin
(Point em out, and watch me)
[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]
[Young Zee]
Zee need Buddha, E-user, beef pre Lugers
Spittin from our PT cruisers
My tape dont drop, I still got dough to make
Got little niggas on roller skates holding my coke and weight
Blow paper, ho chaser, dough raiser, Joe Fraizer
Sixteen cellys and four pagers
Go hype up your squad that they might fuck with ours
I just, light up cigars, go by bikes, trucks, and cars
I got (?) In Atlanta deep, round the street, ten grand a week
I give em one word to put your man to sleep
And I love my Jersey live bitches
Theyll leave a nigga face, with thirty five stitches
Theyll help my tie cinder blocks and push your kids
So deep in the ocean, theyll see where octopuses live
Jeah, this label deal is for Raz, Pace, and Chill
I know mad chicks, but still
[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]
[Young Zee]
What, Bricks (Bricks, Bricks)
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Eingetragen |
23.Dec.2002 16:12:58 |
Letzer Aufruf |
20.Dec.2004 08:12:57 |
Besucher |
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