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Keep It Real lyrics
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That real shit nigga’ Living room packed, laid back on the flow Niggaz can’t see me on the madden with frisco I’m runnin’ fools straight to the dirt While my man train talkin’ on the phone, the evil curse Niggaz waste gas drivin’ down the same streets And hood rats wishin’ for the passenger seats Flag ’em down, like they flaggin’ down to get a taxi Too good to ride a bus, drinkin’ is a must Another day kickin’ back, the scientist is hard at work Thinkin’ how to get paid, kickin’ back in the shade Or call will and temple where my homie down by zeenie With the bald head it’s too hot for the beanie Sittin’ on the porch niggaz run the stop sign Hookers sell they bodies ’round the way ain’t hard to find Right in the corner of mcdonald’s parkin’ lot Peepin’ out their hair ’cause that spot is hot And that’s real (chorus)(2x) Nigga gotta keep my shit real Lettin’ punk niggaz know how the fuck I feel Pussy ass niggaz always wanna be around A nigga like ren when I put that real shit down Randy up the street cuttin’ up the fresh fade And compton p.d. around the corner ’bout to raid The yellow helicopter hangin’ ’round like a gnat And hood rats yellin’ out a car where the party at My robbin’ train go and get a duce And niggaz ’round the way don’t give a damn about a gang truce But I gotta lotta love for my people And like they ain’t tryin’, niggaz just keep dyin’ I won’t be like most niggaz and just come And shoot my video in compton and disappear for a year We make fools like that shake the spot One for the treble jack yo ass in the parkin’ lot ’cause handkerchief headed niggaz come around fakin’ Braggin’ ’bout that money they be makin’ Boot lickin’ butt dancin’ niggaz just better chill Before I tell ’em how I feel and that’s real (chorus) Yeah, uh, break it down All y’all busta ass niggaz Do it like this, 1995 Uh, yeah, come all y’all fake ass niggaz to this Goin’ to the pad hit the beach up on the pager Here comes korleone up the street in the mini-blazer While the dominoes start to get shakin’ The same time that the barbique start bakin’ I don’t eat swine, but I take a turkey burger I can’t fade worms, that books’ full of terms Homies pass by, some stop and conversate On a gang a topics we start to debate On why in black neighborhoods is always towed down And white neighborhoods ain’t one piece a trash ’round So we gotta do for self and quit bitchin’ Recycle black dollars so we can roll impalas Every street got their own rap artist On every cover every brother got a gun tryin’ to look the hardest But some deserve a slap ’cause they laid down they strap When they hear that’s a rap and that’s real (chorus)  More Mc Ren Song Lyrics
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