Lil' Scrappy Be Real Lyrics

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[Chorus: x2]
If you a thug my ***** be a thug
If you sell drugs my ***** then sell drugs
If you gonna rap about it be trill about it
And don't say **** if you can't BE REAL about it

Comin' up as a child my city was hell
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 damn crowd like a ***** would do
Talkin' about pimpin', o she did that too
I got robbed and this old ***** took all my loot
And I was just twelve years old on thirteen skin and bones
That's why I thank my heart to sell dope
I gives a **** 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

[Chorus]

Nobody loves me so I guess I stay to myself
A ***** thinkin' bout change contemplating my death
Fell my pain as it reigns all over a *****
And the only way I can get away is weed and liquor
****in' *****s up on the daily if they didn't pay me
*****s pullin' guns on me damn near drove me crazy
Young ***** went to school just to sell some dope
A lil' crazy *** ***** wit a knife in his coat
And in the streets broke heathens went through drama especially
Moma swung on a *****, I stabbed the ***** in her head (*****)
I dun scratch my head unless it itchs
An I dun smoke unless I'm bustin' at you hatin' *****es
***** we was brave to die, don't be askin' me why
Ill rather hustle in the cold 'cause *****s sprayin' wit' fire
All the childhood fixin's 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 shallow 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 can't forget
Ran home, watched cartoons and ain't said ****
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
I'm proud of my hard times, I spit hard rhymes
Bible in one hand, the other hand nine
Dreaming of naming streets and boulevards mine
Grab yo piece of the pie, the other parts mine

[Chorus: x2]