[Intro: Talking]
Yeah DJ Ace, Iceberg n***a, Gangsters' sh**
n***az out there running their motherf**ing mouth
Acting like bangers, acting without SAG cards
Like somebody supposed to be afraid
[Chorus:]
You f*ggots don't scare me, I'm twices cold
n***az can't tell me sh**, I'm twices old
f** how much you sold, I got twice the cash
f** how old you are, I blast twices fast
No matter how fly you get, I get twices smooth
No matter how slick you are, I got twice the moove
f** how big you get, I got twice the fame
One word burnt, that means twice the game
Twice the heart n***a, look in my eyes
L.A. g**ner to these streets I'm wise
Not to knob us when it come to the guns
I've never flashed just reach and blast
Chrome hydraulics and the black ski-masks
Your next decision might be your last
Real n***az, fade the f** up with the fakes
Think about the next move you make, n***a
[Chorus:]
Fame, motherf**ers wanted so bad
Give away every f**ing piece of soul they had
Lie to themselves then they lie on the pad
It's a motherf**ing Hip-Hop fad
Get gangsta, get gull, get raw
Talking about sh** you ain't never f**ing saw
When the streets talk, they say they need to holler at you
You got to jail, you got problems there too
That's the drama that comes with the fakeness
Bodyguard n***az straight making me laugh
Fourty n***az in your entourage, twelve of them f*gs
The real n***a in your crew's straight extorting your cash
Who I ma talking to? ~ half of you rap boys
Rolling with the cops, talking all about you're hardcore
No names needed, everybody knows
The real n***az in the game, and the straight who*es
[Chorus:]
The streets got a problem with you
They say the sh** you say on your records ain't true
They say you're talking about people that you never knew
It's a gammick n***az see right through
They want a little cash back for the lives you stole
They say they'll take you back and your blood and your gold
More bodyguards, more stipulates;
In the doors of your cars and your SUVs
You know, you got real problems cause you're f**ing with Gs
You got the fake gangster rapper disease
Keep lying, n***a, digging your grave
Claiming how you bust guns when you know you b**h-made
Your whole posse knows, n***a, when will you learn
They're looking at your bankrole laying to turn
You wanna be a gangster but forgot one thing
Gangsters get murdered or they're dying to bang
[Chorus:]
n***a, SMG, go to your stylist
Get some gangster war-draw put together
Put on your make-up, come out and do your video
Rented cars, rented who*es, rented houses
Fake guns, fake lifestyles, MTV cribs, enemy in your house n***a
Got to practise what you preach n***a
Talk the talk you got to walk the walk
Street n***az wanna talk to you, kid, and talk to you face to face
Your bodyguards h*mos**ual anyway, fat-a** n***a
Iceberg, the truth kid!