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For Real [verse 1:] I got this coffee pot of white soap stuck my hanger down the center when I entered I spent it cause it was like dope But on the real-a he was jackin' me for scratch cause out of 36 ounces this motherfucker brought me 20 back I'm slanging 20 sacs cause I done lost 16 and these goddamn streets aint going to bring me back Now could it be the southside big baller Bolo rock slanger stones done got slaughtered-damn I'm going up on my whole thangs And stepped on don't go runnin my clique cause it's a old game And all I ever wanted was some hundred stacks I went from slangin' o-z's to movin' hundred sacks Gotta make my money back Cause I done came too far up in these goddamn streets to get my money snatched I'm so for real about this motherfuckin skrill that any obstacle obscuring my paper is gettin' killed For real [chorus: ] (scratching and mixing) All I have is this small skrilla [verse 2:] I know this nigga run this game of life So motherfuckin sheist that at night he got to sleep with lights Cause he done come across with shit so shade that mutha fuckers comin with clips to locate him Aint no waitin and once they spot him they gon' sure face him and once the got him they gon' sure waste him This aint no mutha fuckin joke nigga it aint worth it and even if your mother gets in it you cant surface It was all purpose just like that bullshit you was serving it was all purpose We all chipped in nigga and we all hurting I gots to grind just like in eighty-nine when a niggas 25 cent pieces look just like baby dimes I'm on the corner selling whole eights I don't remember being this fuckin paranoid since I sold weight I went from 50 sacs to 50 packs And all because this motherfucker got jipped he wants to jip me back But when I find him I'm gon finalize him Just to let a nigga know I'm for real and down to die for mine And I'm for real about this mutha fuckin skrill that any obstacle obscuring my paper is gettin killed For real [chorus] [verse 3:] Game made to be swift since eighty-six when I started Seems like niggas with hustle got outsmarted Cause now they wanna analyze they homies for scratch Catch them when they sleeping come down and up scrap And even though I plotted hittin' niggas for ends I never took out straps and shot gats at friends It was all about being for real where I was from Where very few niggas came real but I was one I dedicate this to my homies stuck in battle Living life being caught up in this mutha fuckin' gamble The game made to be changed but the niggas still started Cocaine seems to be blamed for the niggas gettin slaughtered How many times you had your homie shot By the same mutha fucker whose game came from your homies block Niggas get caught up in the paper chase and lose respect for the game that was honored before the cake was made [chorus]
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