Shyheim

Shyheim - This Iz Real (Clean) lyrics

Your rating:

[Shyheim]

Yeah yeah, hah

It don't stop

Sid, Vince, Tyler

Ta'He, Rubbabandz

Killa Kane, Redman

Let's go to war, baby!



[Chorus: Shyheim]

I keep it real, y'all know the deal

Every man for himself, similar to a battlefield

Never wack, its a straight up fact

Or dip down in black once you hear the clat-clat



[Shyheim]

It's be real, ain't no time to cash no butterflies

Pass the St. Ide's, screwface is my disguise

Don't look me in my eyes that aint wise

The first chump that jumps is the first chump that lies

Raw, spell that backward that's war

Lay low scarecrow I'm knockin at your front door

Pointin a pistol to your peekhole, sucker

Warning: my trigga finga gets pushy

Blaow, a single {shot} straight to the headpiece

Decrease the peace and watch the drama increase

See I'm ruthless, pistol whip a clown toothless

Me gettin hit, ludicris

I'm on my P's and my Q's

Try to put your foot in my shoes kid

You gotta pay the diggy-dues

I ain't the one to play Pammy

I leave the head all red like that little orphan Annie

I'm dressed in black like Streets of Harlem

Pat punk's pockets down with no problem

And get away just like an Unsolved Mystery

You don't believe me G, check my pedigree

And you can feel how I deal with the {god} damn steel

This ain't no game, it's real



[Chorus x2]



[Shyheim]

Now what? Punk, run and get you guns

and premeditate on murderin me, the Godfather's Son

And I'm from Shaolin, home of the Gotti's

[?] thugs catch the body's, catch where I be

in the heart of the projects doin foul things

Livin like kings, known for pullin stings

Grimy as ever, roll my mom's when I'm broke

Keep my ? up to par, never had a tec-tote

My record label and the FCC don't like what I'm sayin

So on the radio, you might not hear this joint playin

I got styles like a, prayin mantis

Watch me do damage, pin that {nigga} to the canvas

My dirty broken language is a secret

Shaolin swordstyle, and never do we teach it, so peep it

Wu-Tang Killa Bee on the swarm

Word bond, I wet your block up like a rain storm

You think not, you see red dots on your forehead, you're Elvis

Messin with these kids from Shaolin, you'll get dealt with

Like Tip and Poetic, watch me set it with the quickness

Shyheim the good Son comes soon on 12-inches

The one man gang, never need an army

Killuminati got me at my window with a shotti

Like Malcolm, ready to touch anything that moves

Everyday lifestyle be a hustle like Smoothe



[Chorus x2]



[Shyheim]

Brown Hornet, uh, Down Low Recka

June Lova, Big L

Gill-Gill, love you kid

Tump, Big Un

P's, Big Grease

Big Red, hold it down baby

Uh, hah

Big Bogey, represent baby

Uh, Little Kane

You my baby boy, represent kid
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found