作曲 : Tracy Morrow/Richard Ascencio Yo, what's up with all these ******s On these mutha******' records talkin' all this bull*******t I ain't tryin' to hear that *******t, man These ******* ain't players, man Peace to my street ******s movin' that weight Much love to my comrades who's out in upstate Mad connections from the bottom to the top of the game Street fame, I got much that's in touch with my name Got a overload of guns to unload on a lame ****** trippin' Wake up my posse, interrup' the Rémy sippin' Four in your back and keep bailin' Listen to the HK wailin' and your vital signs failin' Everyone that ever met me knows I work ******* like ******s, pimp ******s like hoes Command a mack that's immaculate, your girl's naked You think she ain't been hit, kid yo, you best to check it For ten years I been connected to the top of this Hold your breath, kid, I'm never droppin' this Too busy rollin' off them fat chrome rims And ******s who trip get sung hymns We crash clubs and security *******ts' Cause they know they got size but they know we keep clips Crazy mutha******as lickin' shots in doors Leavin' suckers' bodies bleedin' over nightclub floors You don't want none, son, stay gone Break north when I come and you might live long Yeah, my face kickin' treble, you're just a pebble You're gettin' rocked, yo, E, ****** the glock And let these ******s know, yo, that the west don't play none Fire shoots out of my strap like a ray-gun You broke ill and you cold ****** up Now you're bleedin' through your fingers while you're holdin' your gut So get your money how you want to, friend But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win The game of life is only fake and true But it's all about the dollars when the day is through Get your money how you want to, friend But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win The game of life is only fake and true But it's all about the dollars when the day is through It's the return of the real Return of the real I go deep into the street life's anatomy A ****** take me out, yo, what a upset that'd be And if I fall I fall on cu*******ons, [Incomprehensible] Hittin' ******s up with the tec and watch the blood gu*******n' I see your videos, a 100 ******s in it you don't know Framed in the lens, bought friends Who really got your back, ******, check it out You really possess like zero street clout The only place you're safe is in the studio Yellin' in the mic, you'se a *******, that's right I take a ****** like you and make him ********** cute So what you got a gun, punk, you're scared to shoot You front hardcore, but I don't feel ya Kids from my hood'll take your punk ass and peel ya Let me check my Rolex quick because time's money Squintin' from the pavet face because it's kinda sunny Skinnin' the top back, flossin' the rag and the thing Feelin' the sun, backin' off of my pinky ring Hittin' the ' Shaw with my ******s and clown Lift the ass, hit the switch, raise the front off the ground But most of the time you can't see a ****** Deep in the archives parlayin' new ways to get my bank bigger So get your money how you want to, friend But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win The game of life is only fake and true But it's all about the dollars when the day is through So get your money how you want to, friend But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win The game of life is only fake and true But it's all about the dollars when the day is through It's the return of the real
作曲 : Tracy Morrow/Richard Ascencio Yo, what's up with all these ******s On these mutha******' records talkin' all this bull*******t I ain't tryin' to hear that *******t, man These ******* ain't players, man Peace to my street ******s movin' that weight Much love to my comrades who's out in upstate Mad connections from the bottom to the top of the game Street fame, I got much that's in touch with my name Got a overload of guns to unload on a lame ****** trippin' Wake up my posse, interrup' the Rémy sippin' Four in your back and keep bailin' Listen to the HK wailin' and your vital signs failin' Everyone that ever met me knows I work ******* like ******s, pimp ******s like hoes Command a mack that's immaculate, your girl's naked You think she ain't been hit, kid yo, you best to check it For ten years I been connected to the top of this Hold your breath, kid, I'm never droppin' this Too busy rollin' off them fat chrome rims And ******s who trip get sung hymns We crash clubs and security *******ts' Cause they know they got size but they know we keep clips Crazy mutha******as lickin' shots in doors Leavin' suckers' bodies bleedin' over nightclub floors You don't want none, son, stay gone Break north when I come and you might live long Yeah, my face kickin' treble, you're just a pebble You're gettin' rocked, yo, E, ****** the glock And let these ******s know, yo, that the west don't play none Fire shoots out of my strap like a ray-gun You broke ill and you cold ****** up Now you're bleedin' through your fingers while you're holdin' your gut So get your money how you want to, friend But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win The game of life is only fake and true But it's all about the dollars when the day is through Get your money how you want to, friend But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win The game of life is only fake and true But it's all about the dollars when the day is through It's the return of the real Return of the real I go deep into the street life's anatomy A ****** take me out, yo, what a upset that'd be And if I fall I fall on cu*******ons, [Incomprehensible] Hittin' ******s up with the tec and watch the blood gu*******n' I see your videos, a 100 ******s in it you don't know Framed in the lens, bought friends Who really got your back, ******, check it out You really possess like zero street clout The only place you're safe is in the studio Yellin' in the mic, you'se a *******, that's right I take a ****** like you and make him ********** cute So what you got a gun, punk, you're scared to shoot You front hardcore, but I don't feel ya Kids from my hood'll take your punk ass and peel ya Let me check my Rolex quick because time's money Squintin' from the pavet face because it's kinda sunny Skinnin' the top back, flossin' the rag and the thing Feelin' the sun, backin' off of my pinky ring Hittin' the ' Shaw with my ******s and clown Lift the ass, hit the switch, raise the front off the ground But most of the time you can't see a ****** Deep in the archives parlayin' new ways to get my bank bigger So get your money how you want to, friend But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win The game of life is only fake and true But it's all about the dollars when the day is through So get your money how you want to, friend But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win The game of life is only fake and true But it's all about the dollars when the day is through It's the return of the real
