Young Jeezy - The Realist pe Lyrkit

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The Realist

The Realist

(album: The Inspiration - 2006)

[Young Jeezy: Talking]

Ride on these niggaz
I ride on these niggaz
I ride on these niggaz (hahaaa)
I ride on these niggaz

Let's get it!

[Verse 1: Young Jeezy]

Super charger, the same color as PJ
(yeaaaaah) I got a champagne range
Pick niggaz off, 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 getting rich is like one-in-a-million
(hahaaaaa) Or more like two-in-a-billion
Flashing lights, my mind's playing tricks on me
But the Minuteman still do tricks on me
Swear the feds just staring at a nigga
You know, you feeling ya heart fall into ya feet
Summertime niggaz still riding with the heat
Jeezy De Niro, Snowman Pacino
Real niggaz love me because I talk that lingo

[Hook: Young Jeezy]

And I'm the muhfucking realist...
They lies, they phonies, they fakes,
These niggaz ain't never sold the weight
And I'm the muhfucking realist...
They lies, they phonies, they fakes,
These niggaz ain't never sold the weight
And I'm the muhfucking realist...
They lies, they phonies, they fakes,
These niggaz ain't never touched the weight
And I'm the muhfucking realist...
They lies, they phonies, they fakes,
These niggaz ain't never touched the weight
And I'm the muhfucking realist...

[Verse 2: Young Jeezy]

Nowadays the GT's glock black (cheaaa!)
The shoes on that motherfucking 3-80 chrome
Gotta be careful what you say on the phone
I'm 36 O's away
From giving the mic up and going back to the streets (naww)
What's the difference, I still eat the same
A nigga paranoid, I still sleep the same
You niggaz rapping 'bout blow, like it's a fad
Nigga 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 nigga sold out
You niggaz playing, I show you what that street shit '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 niggaz ain't never sold no yams
I'm talking sucka-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 going hard with the blocks
25 for the four ways, choppaz by the door-ways

[Hook]

Terminat