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letra de be real - lil scrappy

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if you a thug my n-gg- be a thug
if you sell drugs my n-gg- then sell drugs
if you gonna rap about it be trill about it
and dont say sh-t if you can’t be real about it

if you a thug my n-gg- be a thug
if you sell drugs my n-gg- then sell drugs
if you gonna rap about it be trill about it
and dont say sh-t if you can’t be real about it

comin up as a child my city was h-ll
my moma was the best soldier, dad stayed in out of jail
i came robbin and kickin in doors
then on my behalf and 17 old
but ya see shorty, my mom was a g
she made it real easy for my sista and me
she did what she had to do, and got
out the d-mn crowd like a n-gg- would do
talkin about pimpin, oh she did that too
i got robbed and this old n-gg- took all my loot
and i was just 12 years old on 13 skin
and bones thats why i thank my heart to sell dope
i gives a f-ck about none of you hoes
all you fake thugs think about is grills and gold
and pressin these doors
(shorty) and cakin these hoes
i’ma pimp, i spend my time makin these hoes

if you a thug my n-gg- be a thug
if you sell drugs my n-gg- then sell drugs
if you gonna rap about it be trill about it
and dont say sh-t if you can’t be real about it

n-body loves me so i guess i stay to myself
a n-gg- thinkin bout change comtemplating my death
fell my pain as it reigns all over a n-gg-
and the only way i can get away is weed and liquor
fukin n-gg-z up on the daily if they didnt pay me
n-gg-z pullin guns on me d-mn near drove me crazy
young n-gg- went to school just to sell some dope
a lil crazy -ss n-gg- wit a knife in his coat
and in the streets broke heathens
went through drama especially
moma swung on a n-gg-
i stabbed the b-tch in her head (n-gg-)
i don’t scratch my head unless it itches
and i don’t smoke unless i’m bustin at you hatin b-tches
n-gg- we was brave to die, dont be askin me why
ill rather hustle in the cold ’cause n-gg-z sprayin wit fire
all the childhood fixins wit tha devil inside the kitchen
got my mind on my gun and i’m finna pull a pistol

you see the streets, they’ll swallow you whole
mind body and soul
and leave you in a ditch wit no shoes and clothes
waitin for the trash collector
follow me mind selector to the ghetto sector
they’ll kill you over thirty dollars
i seen a man cut wit a dirty bottle
blood squirted on his shirt and collar
i heard him holla a sound that i cant forget
ran home, watched cartoons and ain’t said sh-t
and to this day moma thought i was young
hungry, and poor (par)
while she was at the church praising the lord
i made through amazingly unscarred
she had to be praying ’cause i made it by the grace of the god
im proud of my hard times, i spit hard rhymes
bible in one hand, the other hand 9
dreaming of naming streets and boulevards mine
grab yo piece of the pie, the other parts mine

if you a thug my n-gg- be a thug
if you sell drugs my n-gg- then sell drugs
if you gonna rap about it be trill about it
and dont say sh-t if you can’t be real about it

if you a thug my n-gg- be a thug
if you sell drugs my n-gg- then sell drugs
if you gonna rap about it be trill about it
and dont say sh-t if you can’t be real about it

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