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lirik lagu it’s real – mr. serv-on

[chorus]

keeping this real
oh baby, keeping its real
oh baby, keeping its real
oh baby, keeping its real
keeping its real

[brotha lynch hung]

i put you up n-gg-, don’t trip
you did your work for that mark and he left you in the dark
skydiving in a bulletproof parachute
no remorse left you hanging, easy aiming lockdown
shoot, the clock sounds two
one minute till i’m in it got a business
fill they -ss to death and get my scrilla in the corner none left
shots out to my n-gg- in the penn getting switch
that whack b-tch tried to stop a n-gg- from getting rich
you can dig a ditch but you won’t find sh-t
left you in flames, kept you roach, you can smell the sh-t when i
approach
i be off that stanky sack of indonesia
it’s an evidential, i leave you hungry eat your cheesa
heard you was sweet like an almond joy
and i know you heard of me cause i’m a west coast bad boy
and i’m a sick n-gg-, sick made (made)
it gets real as i pull the pin out this grenade (nade)
body parts like the movie old school oozie
rip your arms out from the elbows n-gg- i smell those green leaves
those sick thieves, a twenty sack of green weed
is all i need, i make you bleed, i take your green
i know you got it from the ice cream man
before you make that transaction i need to cash in my hand (god d-mn)
and if you don’t we can do the murder man dance
under any circ-mstance i’m a have your pans

[chorus]

[master p]

brotha lynch, i’m a make you a deal you can’t refuse
my phone tapped the new code for hafts and hoes
is t-shirts and tennis shoes from the yay i got the sneaker
65 for a shoe n-gg- you got the tweaker
meet me down south, new orleans we b-mping
i get this b-tch jumping, you got the money
i got the g’s, flip the keys and the oz’s
we can blow some weed, and talk about that sh-t smoking some trees
but watch your back, keep your handlebar on c-ck
too many federal agents pretend to be hustlers but really cops
send across the border n-gg- like taco bell
pulling a plane or boat, ups, n-gg- i could get it there
i’m surrounded by c-cktails, i mean hoes in mini skirts
aint no free d-ck out here, it’s time to put in work
put these hoes on a grayhound, fool if it’s going down
and make em bring it back from my hood to your town
and it’s all good, n-gg- it’s like wax
and we can slang these records like motherf-cking crack
and if they b-mping we gotta keep them jumping
cause it’s all about the chedder, the cheese and the money

[chorus]

[mr. serv-on]

a criminal tatted from front to back, always bout my jack
doin a dope deal, forget to bring your strap, let it be fact
i blast first, i know no n-gg- that slugs in a hurst, who cursed
my dope and money
i’m leaving more blood stains then a stove
be my wife, live your life
till death do us part, start my gangsta bounce, 36 ounce
to a key, got this d.o. d-ck in your face to tell me the f-ck else you
got free
a thousand pounds of that skunk, ready to jump, smokin everything i
can’t hump
master p and brotha lynch hung
let me serve some dip to these n-gg-s with thier tongues out
eighteen five in the south
twenty four in the east, see my scrilla blow like geese
cross my fingers for my wife, it’s hot tonight
a murder case got away with a hundred g’s and a couple of wild geeks
headed west
kapish, a hundred cluckers awaiting my arrival
dirty survival

[chorus]

- mr serv on

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