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What's Real

  • Исполнитель:

    Sir Mix-A-Lot
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  • Текст, перевод и аккорды “What's Real”

  • [Verse 1 - Sir Mix-A-Lot] 1977 was a no cocaine in my hood-ject The brothers was stuck on Chuck without a mind set I got tired of watchin Good Times feelin like J.J., I'm standin in the food bank line My momma was ridin on the bus tryna get to work Early in the morn', it's cold and her knees hurt She got a .38 sittin in her purse Cause my moms was the King County Jail nurse So how in the hell could you tell Mix That I never lived this, when you was just a snotty nose age six Young buck, just graduate And your lyin when you say your street educated Cause I'ma veteran boy and you's a new booty So stop frontin to your friends like you knew me Cause you don't and you never did, kid So FUCK your respect and the shit you claim ya did To all ya real, when ya claimin ya gang bang Doin everythin to gain fame and get yourself a name But I done seen my homies gettin smoked over dice games When you was still at home doin nice things Back in the days of turtle wax on Cadillacs Life to a brother was hoes and macks I had to come up some way Pimp daddies and ex-Black Panthers used to school me Why moms was puttin in eight to twelve I was in the hood gettin schooled on makin mail I can't let my moms die a poor black sister Gotta make her richer So tell me what's real, partner [Break - Sir Mix-A-Lot] (Da-da-da-down for mine) (You gon' buy me a motherfuckin car?) So what's real fool? (Da-da-da-down for mine) (You gon' buy me a motherfuckin car?) [Verse 2 - Sir Mix-A-Lot] Back when MLK Way was Empire Way I was stuck on broke, but I used to hear pimps say Better get what you can get before you get got Come up and snatch yours and buy yourself a nice spot And that's stuck in my head 'til this day G So I apply pimp game to life you see But I ain't beatin on my sister in the streets I'ma focus on my real enemy, yeah So if I'm pimpin, then who's my hoeys In D.C. livin in a big white house bro Changes his name every four years Mr. Carter caught me slippin, but Reagan wasn't gettin his I never wanted a hand out young Jake I never got jealous over how much a brother makes So I was on my own, no love in the school zone No blacks in the books, so I'm gone And now the only color that I love is green see Cause my history books never taught me about me I may not like where I've been, but I'm lovin where I am Prime rib, fuck Spam So tell me what's real partner [Break - Sir Mix-A-Lot] (I fought back, then heat check) (You gon' buy me a motherfuckin car?) So what's real fool (I fought back, then heat check) (You gon' buy me a motherfuckin car?) [Interlude - Sir Mix-A-Lot] Yeah, I'd much rather be behind the mic, then the gat But the simple fact that my pockets is fat Means I can't relax, you know what I'm sayin? Haha [Verse 3 - Sir Mix-A-Lot] Criticized by the main stream For not bein the house jig and keepin things squeaky clean But I can't, so I ain't But I won't play the hard role just because you think that is real, to say you kill, when you never held steel You try to sing when you rollin in cake-ville Back in the days you was breakdancin see I remember when you had tight pants G So Mr. Rap Critic when you trys to check me about my cars and my girls, claimin you never could respect me You really think I give a damn partner? The shit I've been through man I used to roll with the hoes Hit the Caddy, slam the doors Livin alone, cellular phone Havin no furniture in my home Rollin to Canada, makin my mail Givin a trick a piece of tail Livin it large, keepin it hard Life was kinda odd And rat a tat tat with my gat, sat in my lap G The Hilton Hotel was my spot, I'm runnin my things see I went from hustlin cheese, to double platinum LPs But you still can't feel me Boy the head don't get fat if you know where your at Instead of ridin my back, check your own dat and that's facts Now what's real partner [Outro - Sir Mix-A-Lot - talking] Haha, so what's real? Yeah and all you clown runnin around town Tellin people me and yous was down When I was doin parties at the Boy's Club You was sellin match books of weed, partner I was about handlin my business And you was about smokin your gri-nass So check yourself, you wanna see the big head champ And that's real to the fullest and I'm out

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