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[Killah Priest:] Yeah, yeah, my name is Priest You know what it is man Here me out there world What you got on this man? Big time we gotta get it What's over there? I go it Lock that! Priesthood, knaw'mean? It's real son, it's real son [Hook: Priest] I only fucks - with - what's - real [Killah Priest:] Led he who have sin, sin no more Tired of kicking the door, shootouts, blood and gang wars Chainsaws, tied up spouses, cocaine laws Hawaiian outfits with SKs that bloodstain walls Till you're losing ounces, niggas see the life that drug game calls You're crying fountains on the calls, saying, "Please, she's only four" Pleading the merciless men that murder your kin Sending you threats over the phone and they murder again Now you either make the payments or funeral arrangement Contemplating, federal building put their name in a statement Poor choices, take this like the gem from the pearl of oysters SongtexteStill wet on my tongue, rep where you're from And your boy just see real niggas respected Deliver this message to the dumb and the deceased We all from the streets, made they rest in peace While I wreck this beat with techniques Resurrect speech with flows are deep in soul I tell Ms. Rahman, I'm sorry what happened that evening But it was Tone; his name came up now we even And Mr. James I wish I could change, but Todd Shouldn't of did what he did, you can't blame Rob And Ms. Stevens, what can I say? A close call But it wasn't me you visit at the morgue When they killed Spark that night, my heart went to the right My chest got tight, that was a hard one to fight Hood mysteries that no one could figure out Plain and simple, facts were there Going through packs of beer Make me run to the roof; let the Mac off in the air You was always strapped, gave me dap then threw up the pairs Like yeah, I missed those years, I dish out tears Strange dreams at night make me wish you was here Tommy you should have watched your back Instead he let them niggas plot and then form an attack His shots echo, bounced off the building in the ghetto Mass genocide, inner-city children of the barrel And Mr. John, I did what I did 'cause of revolution You're damn near sixty, may you lay next to Newton The dollar bill, "In God We Trust" Does God stand for Guns, Oil, & Drugs they gave to us? [Hook:] I only fucks - with - what's - real [Killah Priest:] It's project living regardless revolvers are spitting When drama is lit, guns will get clipped, the mission No bottles were ribbing, just hollows from Henchmen Hell swallows us, death follows up Bullet shells, toddlers get bucked Black male role models are fucked The little girls promised the world but tomorrow turn sluts You either playing basketball or pushing crack in the hall Or either rap or getting macs out the board Now what's that, white supremacists? No rights for immigrants (no rights) Life imprisonment, some get life sentences Secret indict, whites swapping with businessmen We fight militant, keepers of words they're writing Genesis Black paintist Rome-like the images This goes to the judges and the senators [Hook:] I only fucks - with - what's - real Aus Songtexte Mania