Real Talk Lyrics

"Real Talk" was written by Broadus, Calvin.
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"Real Talk" was written by Broadus, Calvin.
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Now you dun heard a lot of talk about me and my niggaz
Them Outlaw worldwide my figures
From triumph to tragedy
To right back on top the niggaz still mad at me

For pushin' that big truck on 24's
A square feat in ATL game [unverified]
Man dat's what my nigga got shot for
Bein' too mothafuckin' wrong for dis footballs

See the darkness, see the light, he wanna feel it
Misery loves pumpin' me and that's the real shit
But in 2005 I'm on some ill shit
Four niggaz sneak upon me and I'm fearless

I'm takin' a stand, a born killer
Like them niggaz in Pakistan
It's simple, gotta git 'em fore' I die
Like the old west see how we low tex da ride

I know mama, you did your best at raisin' me
Now your baby dun became a G
When I'm out in them streets
The only one that got me is me
I keep my hand upon my heat

'Cause you know mama you didn't raise no bitch
So if a nigga wanna get at me
I be out in them streets, my thang cocked
'Cause really all I got in the game everyday is me
Real talk

Everyday is a new challenge
I'm a savage in my new balance
A lot of rappers but not enough raw talent
Blame the machine but fuck it I'm a hustla bitch
So we start our own label sellin' bricks legit

Power to the people, a lot of power in my pencil
We da hope for the hopeless, the voice for the voiceless
Outlaw soldiers, we still in the game
Years later last members fuckin' feelin' the same

Straight from the heart, makin' 'em walk
Live for the day don't wait for tomorrow
Hatas gettin' they wrong, I seen tha streets rap
Rounda tough with some niggaz
I seen [unverified] put religion in the roughs of some niggaz

They say gangstaz don't live that long, too many turn-coals
That's fucked up, puttin' cuffs on your folks
Coincidental the Outlawz instrumental
And raisin' a thug nation, we influential

I know mama, you did your best at raisin' me
Now your baby dun became a G
When I'm out in them streets
The only one that got me is me
I keep my hand upon my heat

'Cause you know mama you didn't raise no bitch
So if a nigga wanna get at me
I be out in them streets, my thang cocked
'Cause really all I got in the game everyday is me
Real talk

Yeah, my mother ain't made no sucker
Raised in the gutta, I'm a made mothafucka
All I know is get paid mothafucka
All day mothafucka, one way over anotha

And ain't no body no where that can stop me
Call me Cachy, you tennis, I'm hockey
Mix a little bit of pocky-ocky
With black rocky in my pocks you got me

Real tall, I never took a shall unless it was support
I'm stressin' ain't my thought
And I walk these dogs, I'm a soldier
Dontcha wanna be like me when you grow up?

A man of honor comma, good karma
Niggaz wants drama, I got the problem solva
Big ass Cig, that's that shit
Plus the bully that a fully automatic

I know mama, you did your best at raisin' me
Now your baby dun became a G
When I'm out in them streets
The only one that got me is me
I keep my hand upon my heat

'Cause you know mama you didn't raise no bitch
So if a nigga wanna get at me
I be out in them streets, my thang cocked
'Cause really all I got in the game everyday is me
Real talk, y la conchetumadree

Songwriters
BROADUS, CALVIN

Published by
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group, Royalty Network, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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