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Hands on My 45
Descrição
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Letra
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
Niggas know who's the mind blower, the weed grower
Have you seeing doubles like Noah
The rhyme flower B.I.G., top notch with the Glock
Check your pockets and your sockets
Just the way my pops taught me
When you throw the drop, check 'em thoroughly
The bastard might spin around and try to bury me
And dead niggas don't make no moves
When I'm slingin' in the hood, I don't fake no moves, aight
Reminiscing on my swingin' days
When I drove a Caddy and my bitch sported finger waves
Yeah, she had the Gucci boots, I had Cerruti suits
OshKosh B'Gosh, Coca-Cola, lookin' real cute
Junior M.A.F.I.A., representing Bucktown
MAC-11 cocked back, niggas better duck down
Face down, you know the routine
The green earrings, you know the drama Biggie bring
Let's get it on
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
I'm under pressure, the stress'll have me drinkin'
Thinkin' niggas after me, much too paranoid to blink
Wonder why the police don't wanna see me stackin' G's
They after a player, but I won't let 'em capture me
I gotta thank the Lord for the weed and the nicotine
I can't sleep, close my eyes and see wicked things
I keep my pistol by my bedside, one in the chamber
Preoccupied with homicide, my life's in danger
Rollin' down the 4-5, beware of strangers
Hand on my .45, that's what the fame does
I'm probably wrong, but I'll never know until I'm gone
From out the gutter where the jealous motherfuckers roam
Pass the weed, let the Hennessy get to me
Before the penitentiary
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
How long will it last? I wish I wasn't born
I know I got the skill to make records, they need to put me on
Some say I'm wrong, for writing rap songs
About the way I feel, they say I won't last long
Gotta be strong, even though my life ain't shit
Hoping and praying to live legit
Won't quit, sometimes I try to borrow some loot
Motherfuckers be frontin', and think they ass too cute
To lay they open hand, short arms and deep pocket
But I'm here to see their hands stick out when I skyrocket
And get the profit, my temper take over in reverse
Niggas should've known from jump for what it's worth
I give birth to a track when I spit a lyric
Style so fat while you skinny like an anorexic
I went through so much drama
I could write a book on how to deal with trauma
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be wise, my Enterprise like Star Trek
Got niggas vexed 'cause I be fucking up they whole set, yes
Niggas are pet, my lyrics a death threat
To wack MCs yet, C-H-I's the vet
Never forget the Houston bomber
My whole Def Trak Clique be smoking on ganja
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
Be the realest
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