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lirik lagu dat real shit – camoflauge

[camoflauge:] godd-mn!

[hook]
it’s that real sh-t, huh?
that real sh-t, what?
that real sh-t, and you can tell?
cause flies all around it
it’s that real sh-t, what?
that real sh-t, huh?
that real sh-t, and you can tell?
cause flies all around it

[verse]
man its that real sh-t (smell that!)
i bet you won’t (inhale that!)
too long cause its strong like some weed outta?
y’all n-gg-z know what it is
boy ain’t yo mamma told you bout playin with them project kids!
but you don’t listen, now yo -ss missin
for runnin yo f-ckin mouth, and knowin you ain’t no compet-tion
i glisnin like diamonds, they rippin up sh-t when i’m rhyming,
just like the sun i’m shinin, top of the charts is where i’m climbin
a red light means stop! i run that sh-t!
got n-gg-z fiendin for some good dope
gotta come back and get! another hit of that bomb -ss music
sh-t don’t love the way i do it!

[hook: x2]

[verse]
i’m ragin, cause n-gg-z hatin, cause we makin,
mail out the -ss better ask somebody i’m blazin
hot like fire n-gg-, you don’t wanna try this n-gg-!
picture me rollin like 4 rims and 4 tires n-gg-!
i’m bad like michael… jackson, jordan, your pick
but any way you look at it i’m still the sh-t!
my click bringin em’ pain! rapin’ the game!
livin that life! lovin the fame!
i’m f-ckin your dame! she givin up brain!
you kissin that hoe, when she ain’t round i bet you missin that hoe
you better listen (bro!) i’m on a m-th- f-ckin mission (whoa!)
to get rid of my opposition (oh!) these n-gg-s ain’t no compet-tion (no!)
ain’t on my level, and i ain’t even 20 yet
n-gg-s in trouble, i’m blowin up like a balloon
and laughin at these clowns like a 3rd grader watchin cartoons.
(laughs in the background)

[hook x2]

[verse 3]
it’s that real sh-t, so feel me, like you feelin a stripper,
ready to tip her, d-ck bout to bust out your zipper!
you know camoflauge, the don, sippin perion
smoking reefer, ridin round getting my fettin on
see these n-gg-s playa hate me, but its all gravy cause
i puts it down like a sh-tty baby!
brought pain to the rap game, just like a 7 in a cr-p game
n-gg-s didn’t understand what the f-ck was happ’ning
sh-t went to sellin out the store like a crack house
drought season! good dope!
n-gg-s know i’m the? get in the booth and represent
and when i come out n-body go in there for 35 to 45 minutes!

[hook x3]
[talk till fade]
s in heavy rotation even though we make them
hits from the streets, projects, ghettos and gutters
and them thong wearin broads in the club shakin they b-ttux
me, i’m slangin tapes like them hookers slangin they cut up
and just like the freak b-tches i’m makin these n-gg-s nut up
so what up (what up, what up)
and just like trick daddy say uh huh, okay, b-tch shut up!

[chorus]

from the jail house to the crack house n-gg-s steal my sh-t
put an alarm on my lyrics just in case my n-gg-s try to steal my sh-t
i spit like text, good like s-x, pop my tape in yo deck and u’ll be high
like your on ex
floatin’ and sh-t, cuz i be spittin that potenent sh-t
got em’ coughin and chokin and sh-t watch how u talkin and sh-t
grill gold teeted out
eyes all reded out
head all dreaded out
kick sh-t like jet-li and jackie chan
i f-ck over mc’s like they p-ssy and im dingalang
when i spit these flows i’m out of control
like a kindergardener diggin in his nose
and wipin the bugers off on yo close
i’m camoflauge man these n-gg-s can’t see me
unless i’m at the mall walkin round drop the top down doin a show on tv
all he talks about is drugs, s-x, and violence the black slim shady
don’t hate me cuz i put it down like a sh-tty baby
ya smell dat?

[chorus]

look i took my pen and pad
rolled up every sheet i had
bust up every gaurd in the car
rolled up all the weed i had
lit it, hit it, rolled it remembered it spit it
they mixed it mastered it manufactured shifted
promoted, the stores sold it, n-gg-s robbed it and stole it
hurry up dog pull it off yo tape deck it’s too hot to hold it
they got drunk and weeded, ridin’ round town in they trunks they beat it
they woofers wham wham, and they tweeters, leada leada
the way a f-ck over the track it’s like i miss treat it
help writin a hit’s like help f-ckin a b-tch i don’t need it.
i’m cool, no ice, das all gravy, no rice
mr. rogers wanted me to move in his neighborhood cuz my flows is so nice
humptey dumptey sat on a wall peter piper picked a pepper
yeah i sat on the curb wit a bag of herb and picked up a bad habit of gettin cheddar
black beretta tucked up under my coogi sweater
man i ain’t met a n-gg- yet dat flow betta
n-gg- i puts it down

[chorus]

[camoflauge]
ya smell dat
i puts it down like a sh-tty baby
ya’l smell dat
dat real sh-t
camoflauge the dog
stictly for da streets
n-gg- i puts it down like a sh-tty baby
dat funky sh-t
dat m-th-f-ckin real sh-t, uncut sh-t, dat 912 sh-t
n-gg- ya smell dat
savannah georgia n-gg-

- camoflauge

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