เนื้อเพลง The Realist - Young Jeezy
เนื้อเพลง The Realist
[Young Jeezy: Talking]
Ride on these n*ggaz
I ride on these n*ggaz
I ride on these n*ggaz (hahaaa)
I ride on these n*ggaz
Let's get it!
[Verse 1: Young Jeezy]
Super charger, the same color as PJ
(yeaaaaah) I got a champagne range
Big n*ggaz offed, I got a night-scope aim (Bah)
Audio, video, you caught on tape
That's a way to get ya ass sent Upstate (dayyyum)
In '9-AY! I took them trips down to Lauderdale
Back and forth, like Aliyah
Chances of gettin' rich is like one-in-a-million
(hahaaaaa) Or more like two-in-a-billion
Flashin' lights, my mind's playin' tricks on me
But the Minuteman still do tricks on me
Swear the feds just starin' at a n*gga
You know, you feelin' ya heart fall into ya feet
Summertime n*ggaz still ridin' with the heat
Jeezy De Niro, Snowman Pacino
Real n*ggaz love me because I talk that lingo
[Hook: Young Jeezy]
And I'm the muhf*ckin' bi-nuss...
They lies, they phonies, they fakes,
These n*ggaz ain't never sold the weight
And I'm the muhf*ckin' bi-nuss...
They lies, they phonies, they fakes,
These n*ggaz ain't never sold the weight
And I'm the muhf*ckin' bi-nuss...
They lies, they phonies, they fakes,
These n*ggaz ain't never touched the weight
And I'm the muhf*ckin' bi-nuss...
They lies, they phonies, they fakes,
These n*ggaz ain't never touched the weight
And I'm the muhf*ckin' bi-nuss...
[Verse 2: Young Jeezy]
Nowadayz the GT's glock black (cheaaa!)
The shoes on that muhf*cka 3-80 chrome
Gotta be careful what you say on the phone
I'm 36 souls away
From givin' the mic up and goin' back to the streetz (naww)
What's the difference, I still eat the same
A n*gga paranoid, I still sleep the same
You n*ggaz rappin' 'bout blow, like it's a fad
N*gga this is my life, I ain't tryna set trends
'Cause everybody knows how that brick-road ends
Heartless, maybe I need to see the Wizard
Until then, Imma make it snow blizzards
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]
I stay on the block, and risk my life
Day in and day out until a n*gga sold out
You n*ggaz playin', I show you what that street sh*t 'bout
Hit you right up with them thangs, and come back with the chains
Might cook it in the stove, might cook it in the microwave
Either way it's gonna sell, still weigh it on the scale
You rappin'-ass n*ggaz ain't never sold no yams
I'm talkin' s*cka-free Sundays and iced-out Mondays
Pin-up Tuesdays and body-tap Wednesdays
You was in the studio, I was on the block
In the kitchen at the spot goin' hard with the blocks
25 for the four ways, choppaz by the door-ways
[Hook]