Pooh, you a fool for this one
Go Grizz
Damn, man, it's a shame, my nigga
(Some things just don't go)
Seem like every time you put your hand out to gift somebody, some nigga bite your shit
You know, I ain't done nothin' but keep it real with them niggas, you heard me?
But shit, that's how shit go
Some niggas want you locked up
Check this out, look
My nigga took the charge for me, for that, he real
What would he think of convicted felons who step and press that brand new crib?
Jumped off my grandma porch, ever since, I been in the field (Sorry, grandma)
The real fans feelin' like I changed since I got this deal
That really hurt me to my heart, Sosa died on this block
I got turned on to Young Jefe, then went and got a Glock (Glizzy)
I was out searching for real love just like Mary J. Blige
I told lil' Filthy, "It's Crip love, I love you with my heart"
Real love, yeah
I'm searching for a real love
But I guess that I'm blinded
I've been searching for so long, but I just can't seem to find it
I lost lil' Quahfee to that heat, Mama Marta to cancer
They sent lil' Leeky up that creek, too much shit I can't handle
He got a bitch on Facebook with Dickie 'fits and camo (On God)
Tim cock it back and let it bust 'til it ain't got no ammo
Shout out to Brozak, he taught me to put the paper first (Stack up the guap)
It hurt to face the fact my lil' cousin on paperwork
And I'm the one showed you the shit, that's why I wanna slap you
All the iron you slung and licks you hit, that shit don't hold no value
Real love
I'm searching for real love
This for my dawgs in the pavement
And you ain't have to take a stand, but you still made a statement (R.I.P. to all my motherfuckin' niggas)
Real love, yeah
I'm searching for a real love
It's too late for all that butter love
I gotta show you come straight from the gutter love
Young black man, the chosen one, he took his family out of poverty
What do you do when you've been crossed so many times without apology?
Mind naturally stable, but I don't think I'm able mentally
The way I bang the wheelchair, you would think I had a disabling
While I was out seekin' for love, I lost myself, it ain't no fair to me
I was writing raps inside my cell, I scream and yell, this not to the place to be
Who going next, it's maybe me
Stress to my girl like "Baby, please"
Don't play with us, we play for keeps
All of my niggas slang iron in the streets
Top shotta droppin' a bag, I bet I get him deceased
Red watched him put on his mask, I want them niggas six feet
Don dada who self-employed but still sing to the streets
Big choppers, we love to bust 'em every time that it's beef
Take me out the ghetto, but you can't take the ghetto out me
We just some cold-blooded killers, we gon' live in these streets
And we been steppin' on them niggas every time that it's beef
Want them niggas dead and gone this week
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
