Grand Puba - Real Talk lyrics

Published

0 161 0

Grand Puba - Real Talk lyrics

[Grand Puba] I'm a grown a** man, dog I'm from the days of drinking forties in the heat But still help grandma cross the street Where n***as bang on tables making beats And if your sh** was garbage, make your a** take a seat Dapper Dan fresh from gear to interior And if you got knocked your homie would take care of ya Snitchin' at a minimum, flossin' at a premium Bouncin' through the hood, all the shorties love to see me in The beamer, the benz, four wheelin' in the range The players might y change but the game stays the same Done that, been there, been did all that Now I school young pups, stack papes, fall back Let me put you up on game cause what you're doin' has been done before From the whips to the ice to the who*es So pimp the game, don't let the game pimp you Cause you know it's Lord 'nesse and Grand Pu' [Hook] [Lord Finesse] I went from the streets and wild scenes Thugs and foul teams To make my mama proud and watch her child gleam It all now seems like just a wild dream She pa**ed 'fore I had a chance to pile C.R.E.A.M By all means it's so bugged, hard to show love I walk around cold and anemic with low blood But make a quick mill' some say it's hard to earn Fourth album, people wonder will the Gods return? You can bet on that, take a loss, you dead on that You can find us motherf**ers wherever the cheddar's at We'd be foolish to think everybody's the coolest When half these n***as are betrayers like Judas Major influence, tell us who's style's iller When we bring the Heat like Deniro and Val Kilmer With nothing to lose, a lot of sh** to gain So if you don't join the team you might as well quit the game [Hook] [Lord Finesse] Well I'm supplyin' the beat, I'm just tryin' to eat Walk with me, you just play your side of the street You lil' motherf**ers, y'all ain't tryin' to beef Y'all little indians stop eyein' the chief [Grand Puba] Cause we don't stop get it get it Keep it real when we spit it Tilt that Yankee fitted No papes, we ain't wit' it Dudes been payed since n***as been rockin' fades Mics get slayed like crackhead n***as wit' AIDS [Lord Finesse] I'm that divine n***a I'm that press rewind n***a I'm that game ain't over until I shine n***a One of a kind n***a you catch with a bird chillin A New York vet see I'm somethin' like Herb Williams [Grand Puba] You gotta really get it in if you're trying to win You can stack a couple mill' if you're nice with the pen See my swag is good enough to bag your mama and your sister So the next time you see me you better address me as mister [Hook]

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.