Yo it's a lotta niggas bangin' the realest that ain't worth it
|
You bein' fake
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You're fuckin' with Mausberg the Great
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The king of the block
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Lickin' hot shots to keep the pesticides off my jock
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Well if it's on then it's on
|
I'm bustin' with the black and the chrome
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Black tech gangsta, platinum crowns on my dome
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You wanna rumble, chuck em around with the superb
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Come up show, chain tokin' all your herb
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I'm'a [?] this nigga with [?] in the game
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And this bullet goes out to niggas bitin' my name
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Thought it was subliminal, but real doggs recognize them thangs
|
That's why your chronic bout to change the game
|
Certified bet, before my album even pop
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And fuckin' with Quik, that's certified platinum when I drop
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And I'm callin' out competitors, lettin' you know
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If you fuck with the Berg I gun ya down fo sho
|
|
[CHORUS x2]
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Shut up, nigga
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You're fuckin' with my name 'stead of my game
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Fuckin' with my fame
|
Shut up nigga
|
And mind your own
|
Before you can't find your own
|
|
Ey yo I keep a full metal jacket
|
The opposite of a bad habit
|
Medicatin' niggas who start static
|
It's on now, jet line suits and war boots
|
Marine green canteen [?] and lime juice
|
Mausberg the superior
|
You never heard of a more [?] nigga comin' out the urban area
|
Fake, fraud, and fictitious
|
Like som parsley in a Ziploc bag
|
I got the crown fool, it ain't for grabs
|
I run through the biggest packs of niggas
|
With my fists cocked back, and ready for combat
|
And hit ya, with six blows to ya cranium
|
I'm the dime nigga
|
Fuck this rap hunch niggas, I'm gainin' em
|
It's the Y2K, but the glitch is in this bitch niggas
|
Don't want to ride with they own kinda niggas
|
Me and Quik bout to take it to the limit
|
Erasin' all coward ass punks and gimmicks
|
We the realest for real
|
|
[Chorus x2]
|
|
I'm still sportin' gray jeans with the black and white Polo's
|
With the chucks cut lo do's
|
Niggas thought that I was goin' Hollywood
|
After rhythmalism
|
But all that taught me was to keep it realism
|
Give a pound to my real thugs
|
Use a jimmy when I fuck a bitch
|
Stay away from unknown drugs
|
But unlike y'all, bitch made, don't know where you from
|
Lyin' on your records about niggas you done
|
Fuck what happened to Cavaricci jeans and backpacks
|
Where you get them khakis and that dog patch
|
You ain't no gangsta
|
You only get in to fit in
|
Take yo ass to the circus with your family and friends
|
Cuz i'm too rough, too [?], too rugged for y'all kind
|
And I gotta keep them cowards from crossin' the red line
|
Pointe blank, niggas'll do whatcha do
|
But keep in mind when you come across the Berg you're through
|
|
[Chorus x3]
|
|
-----------------
|
Shut Up
|
| Suga Free |
