cheru production inc - troc real - talk lyrics
(real – talk)
never mind that trick ho
i don’t trust that b-tch,though
my block full of hot b-tchez
with that ego
downtown real g,my style is diddo
i’m in tha ghetto,folks is trippy
snapback facing back,ink my whole hody
even if you shot me,you still couldn’t stop me
i rep my hood,phola park
you know w-ssup
i really can’t trip of tha past,on tha real
flip the g to a key,put the east on the map
real n-ggas stand up,rep you set ’til you dead
n-gga with a att-tude, i ain’t gon’ let it die
still a real n-gga,got my lean,got my tree’s
on me
smoke this weed,b-tch,get a lil’ dumb
i’mma pimp to a b-tch,go ‘n light that
weed up
what i’m doing wrong,but it feelz so right
double r double you,whole team here
n-gga back tha f-ck down
‘fore you get smacked down
high az heaven, eyes low az h-ll
i’m in tha hood tatted like a mexican
i keep it a hunnid,ain’t gotta pretend
boy yellow, but my b-tch black from the ghetto
lost my momma and my poppa
at the early age,boy
tkzee my gutta,b-tch i spit that country grammar
my god iz my judge
who the f-ck is you to judge me
daddy a shoota,i’mma son of a gun
ya momma a hooker,youzza son of a b-tch
million dollar meetings with the oversea
n-ggas
i ain’t playing no gamez,i’m on the
run for that dough!
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