Lirik Lagu The Real One - 2 Live Crew Ft. Ice-T
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Verse 1: Brother MarquisOnly the realest can feel us, cap-peelers and killersHundred-dollar billers and real niggasBitches with dime figures, telekenesis in my mindMake my diamonds shine, then I blind niggasPussy punk perpatrators and playa haters -They can't fade us 'cause we two of the greatestBack out to let 'em have it, fake fucks and faggotsBow down in the presence of players and kiss the karatsA wrist full of (?) for all the maggotsBack up and get embarrassed, bitch, get off my carriageUncut, no lactose, hear the raw doseStraight off the key, 100% GWho's puttin' it down on Miami's behalfHome of the nickel (?) and the raw halfEverywhere we go, the impression's feltThe real is stamped on the bag and the dope is dealt
Chorus (2x):Gat in the back, sunroof top,Real one on the scene with the gangsta lean[The real one! Huh? Whut?The real one! Huh, nigga whut?]
Verse 2: Ice-TIt's '98, playa, check your gameMake sure them young boys respect your nameKeep your heed at arms, reached, cocked and ready'Cause the streets'll catch you slippin' and rock you steadyWatch your back with your homies that you feel is realYour homeboys from your crew, yeah, they're the ones who doYeah, the suckas that got the playa hater venom,I wanna take 'em outside and lay slugs up in 'emBut that's trippin', and that ain't my sportI'd rather lamp up my cirb and flip to rob a portI sip my v-dozen on the street, bump my beatsWhen I'm twistin' my dub, can't nobody compete(Imagine this) Hundred-g Lex on your wrist(Imagine this) About 10 karats on your fist(Imagine this) All dime hoes on your listHuh, that shit would be nice, but your name ain't Ice(Nigga trip) And screw the style and so on, rock you softlyHow you gonna step to me, kid, you grew up off meTV, movies and records and toursSo many buses in Versace I don't wear it no moreCalled my nigga in Miami, "
Chorus (2x):Gat in the back, sunroof top,Real one on the scene with the gangsta lean[The real one! Huh? Whut?The real one! Huh, nigga whut?]
Verse 2: Ice-TIt's '98, playa, check your gameMake sure them young boys respect your nameKeep your heed at arms, reached, cocked and ready'Cause the streets'll catch you slippin' and rock you steadyWatch your back with your homies that you feel is realYour homeboys from your crew, yeah, they're the ones who doYeah, the suckas that got the playa hater venom,I wanna take 'em outside and lay slugs up in 'emBut that's trippin', and that ain't my sportI'd rather lamp up my cirb and flip to rob a portI sip my v-dozen on the street, bump my beatsWhen I'm twistin' my dub, can't nobody compete(Imagine this) Hundred-g Lex on your wrist(Imagine this) About 10 karats on your fist(Imagine this) All dime hoes on your listHuh, that shit would be nice, but your name ain't Ice(Nigga trip) And screw the style and so on, rock you softlyHow you gonna step to me, kid, you grew up off meTV, movies and records and toursSo many buses in Versace I don't wear it no moreCalled my nigga in Miami, "
